Once upon a time, a twenty-one-year-old Christian woman met the man of her dreams. He was kind, smart, hardworking, and handsome. Most importantly, he was a committed Christian. He loved God and wanted to obey Him. The couple started spending time together and soon became convinced that the Lord was directing them to marriage. She was overjoyed. Ever since she became a Christian, she had wanted to be a wife and mother. She took her boyfriend to visit her parents—who were not Christians—and the daughter and her boyfriend told them their intentions to marry. After the young man left, the parents told their daughter, “We don’t think that you should marry him.” The daughter asked why they felt this way. They said, “We can’t give you a good reason; we just don’t think you ought to marry him.”1
Bill Gothard presented that fictional scenario at one of his seminars. After hooking his audience with this compelling story, he asked them a question: What should the daughter do? Should she and the young man marry, or should they submit to her parents’ wishes even though the mom and dad are not Christians and have no good reason for disliking the young man? Gothard said the latter decision is the right one. He told his audience the parents’ authority is absolute, no matter the circumstances and no matter how misguided their decisions. Parents must always be obeyed.
My mother-in-law, Diana, faced nearly that exact scenario almost forty years ago. Jeremy’s mother was not raised in a Christian home. Not long after she became a follower of Christ, she met a young pastor named Chuck Vuolo. She liked him and wanted to date him. But her parents had concerns. They were proud of their daughter. She was an accomplished professional violinist. She had traveled internationally, playing in some of the finest orchestras. Her parents thought their daughter’s newfound Christianity was a phase. And they were concerned that if she married this pastor, she would be stuck in religion the rest of her life and would have to give up her promising career.
If Diana had followed Bill Gothard’s teaching at the time, she likely would have ended the relationship with Chuck because her parents didn’t approve. If she had followed the principle of authority, then the life my in-laws built together, their years of ministry, and the three children they brought into this world would have never happened.
Fifteen years ago, if I’d met a girl in the same situation as Diana when she fell in love with Chuck, I probably would have urged her, for her own protection, not to disregard her parents. At the time, I believed all disobedience to parents—no matter the circumstances—was dangerous. I’d fully embraced a concept Gothard called “the umbrella of authority.”
According to this concept, God gives every person authority figures who must always be obeyed. Just as an umbrella protects against rain, these authorities protect a person from spiritual harm, including suffering, pain, and temptations from Satan. But, also like an umbrella, the protection is limited. During a downpour, one wrong step (or strong gust of wind) could leave an individual soaked. Likewise, according to Gothard’s teaching, one act of disobedience, even an unintended act of rebellion against authority, could result in God’s punishment. Gothard taught that by rebelling we were subjecting ourselves to the realm and power of Satan.
My teenage self would see other young people suffering or struggling spiritually and assume their pain was a result of some rebellion against their parents. If something difficult happened to me, I’d think I’d stepped out from under the umbrella because I’d unknowingly disobeyed or disrespected my parents. My understanding was the result of Gothard’s teaching that the main role of authority figures is protection—not control: “The essence of submission is not ‘getting under the domination of authority but rather getting under the protection of authority.’”2
Of course, Gothard taught that God was life’s ultimate authority. But to live under the umbrella and enjoy a flourishing life, you had to obey, respect, and honor the four human institutions to which God had delegated His authority: parents, government, church leaders, and employers.3 Gothard said Christians who disobeyed even one of these authorities would no longer be under the umbrella of protection and would instead find themselves under the domain of Satanic attack.4
In some ways, it was easy to live under the umbrella. Doing so turned my Christian life into a simple checklist: Did I break a law of the state of Arkansas today? If the answer was no, I was still under the umbrella. Did I listen to my spiritual authorities and commit to obeying what they said? Yes. Still protected. Finally, and most dominant in my life, was the daily question: Have I done everything my parents asked me to do? Have I obeyed them with a cheerful, happy heart?
This simple, black-and-white view of authority relieved some of my insecurity and indecision. For example, when I couldn’t decide whether I should play broomball or stay home and read my Bible, my dad took away a lot of my confusion when he told me I should go play broomball. As silly as it sounds, broomball became a matter of obedience to a God-given authority in my life. Since my dad wanted me to go, I was safe under the umbrella. In the same way, when I was struggling with body image and nearly stopped eating, my mom lovingly told me I had to eat. This made maintaining a healthy lifestyle a matter of obedience. There are many similar examples when my parents’ authority was used for good in my life. I know their leadership often protected me from harm.
Yet, though I did not realize it at the time, Gothard’s teaching was creating serious issues in how I understood God and reality.
As I look back on my teenage years, I wish I had spent more time studying what the Bible says about authority. It has so many good things to say about parents and pastors and all the authority figures God has placed in our lives. But if I had taken a more careful look at the Bible, I would have found that the umbrella of authority is not an idea presented within its pages. Gothard led me to believe that any little misunderstanding or misstep with my authorities would result in spiritual or even physical harm. Though I know authorities are there for my good and often my protection, their authority is not absolute. Only God’s is. I often got that backward when I was younger. Gothard’s theology so emphasized obedience and submission to authority that I began to believe all authorities—whether parents or Gothard himself as our spiritual leader—were never to be questioned or challenged in any way. They were simply to be obeyed. This had seriously negative effects.
Gothard’s teachings led me to believe that God was mainly pleased with me due to my obedience. I didn’t outwardly rebel against my parents or any other authorities that were part of the umbrella. In return, I expected God to pour His blessings on me.
One time, while my family and I were attending a conference led by Gothard, we saw a billboard that criticized him and his teaching. I remember thinking it was so sad that someone could be that blind to the truth. They don’t understand. They don’t know what I know. They aren’t as fortunate as I am. I told myself the person responsible for that billboard had a heart of rebellion and was going to endure a lot of hardship in life. At other times, I’d hear about young people who grew up believing the same things I did but then rebelled by listening to worldly music or wearing immodest clothes, and I’d expect God to punish them in a way He never would punish me. They were no longer listening to authority, while I was fervent in my obedience. I was safe under the umbrella of protection. They had stepped out from under it and were opening themselves up to Satan’s attacks.
Gothard emphasized obeying authorities so much that I began to think “obey” was the most important command in the Bible. My Christian life became a transaction with God rather than a relationship with Him: If I obey the authorities in my life, then God will be pleased with me and bless me. If I disobey those authorities, God will not be happy with me and will not bless me. I had figured out this formula for receiving God’s blessings. I felt sorry for anyone who didn’t know about Gothard’s principles; because they didn’t know anything about his teaching, they weren’t going to experience the same joy and satisfaction that I would.
Throughout my teenage years, this self-righteous attitude was a big part of my identity. I was a fervent believer in Gothard’s principles, and I thought I was pleasing God because I followed them zealously. I now see how that self-righteousness made me a lot like the Pharisees—the religious leaders of Israel during Jesus’ life on earth. The Pharisees believed themselves to be righteous people who were committed to obedience. But they were all about outward performance. Jesus said, “They do all their deeds to be seen by others” (Matthew 23:5). They missed the whole point of knowing God. Like them, I was obsessed with outward performance and judged others who didn’t follow the same rules I did.
As I talked about earlier, I was a fearful kid. I was terrified of seemingly everything: weather, car crashes, sickness, and other people’s perceptions of me. When I became a true Christian, those threats became much less threatening than God Himself. The thought of displeasing or dishonoring God was, at times, an all-consuming terror. Gothard’s teachings gave me a practical, specific path to please God, but what his teachings didn’t do—and this is so critical—was give me the right view of God’s authority. Even as these principles were giving me a system that I thought would please God, the ever-present umbrella of authority was teaching me to be afraid of God.
Being afraid of God is different from fearing Him. The Bible says that fearing God is a good thing, something that brings joy and peace.
I know now that when the Bible talks about fearing God, it isn’t talking about dread. It isn’t telling Christians to think God is scary and terrifying. It isn’t saying I should stay up at night with a knot in my stomach, afraid that God is going to punish me if I unknowingly break a rule. Instead, when the Bible talks about fearing God, it’s talking about being in awe of Him.
Author Jerry Bridges described this well:
Perhaps a good working-definition of the fear of God is something like this: to truly fear God means to be in awe of God’s being and character as well as in awe of what He has done for us in Christ. When you put these two ideas together, you have an absolutely sovereign Creator of the universe who punishes those who resist Him, and yet loves us and sends His Son to die in our place. Surely that’s good reason to fear or reverence Him.5
That’s such a helpful truth. It teaches me that the appropriate fear of God isn’t because He could hurt me, or even kill me. The right fear of God is because He is all-powerful, in control of everything, and, at the same time, kind, compassionate, and loving. A being with that combination of qualities should be first feared for His character.
Gothard didn’t teach me to be in awe of who God is and what He’s done, especially through Jesus Christ. Instead, he taught me to focus primarily on God’s punishment. I learned to fear what God could do to me. While the Bible affirms that authority has a place in our lives, Gothard turned obedience into a matter of terror. If I misstepped in any way, I was removed from all protection, and Satan would have full access. “As long as you are under God-given authority nothing can happen to you that God does not design for your ultimate good,” Gothard said.6 This implied that if I stepped out from the umbrella—knowingly or unknowingly—anything that happened would not be for my ultimate good.
That’s why I was so passionate in my commitment to absolute obedience to my authorities. But that passion came from a wrong view of God, a terror of His authority and punishment, and therefore a wrong view of my earthly authorities. Gothard’s teaching on this subject was tailor-made to produce that kind of fear.
Bill Gothard may have coined the “umbrella of authority” concept, but he was certainly not the first person to promote or exercise this kind of authority—the kind that assumes a leader gets to give orders. The kind where it’s the leader’s job to tell others what to do, and the people they are leading must obey with joyful hearts. This leadership structure is top-down. Those in charge should be served by those being led.
There are extreme examples of this kind of authority, like Jim Jones, who led the Peoples Temple. Jones convinced more than nine hundred people that it was God’s will for them to move to Guyana in Central America, where they attempted to set up a utopia, an ideal society where they could live in harmony until Christ’s return. Of course, that didn’t work. We are all imperfect, so no society can be a utopia. When some members of the congregation tried to leave, Jones stopped them. Then he convinced his people to drink Kool-Aid laced with cyanide. Tragically, 918 people died in what became known as the Jonestown massacre.7
Thankfully, most people are not told that to obey their leaders, they must take their own lives. But leaders still display this top-down view of authority in other ways. Perhaps a boss abuses his authority by demanding more work for less pay. This leader is frustrated when employees don’t do things exactly as he says, or he keeps asking for things that make his life easier but are not part of someone else’s job description. Maybe a church leader insists that he should have the final say over where someone works, who to date and marry, what clothes to wear, and what music to enjoy. On top of that, he starts to imply that disobeying him is the same as disobeying God. Finally, and most personally, this shows up in a lot of families. Some parents don’t just have opinions about their kids’ lives; they have commands. Even when their kids are all grown up, these parents expect to be obeyed in all things.
What’s a person to do in those situations? How do we respond to those authorities in our lives?
I’ve spent more than a decade trying to disentangle a true understanding of authority from the false version Gothard taught. I had to learn what the Bible really says about authority and leadership. I’ll always be amazed when I read the thirteenth chapter of John’s gospel. In this passage, Jesus did not demand that His followers serve Him. He did the opposite. He took a towel and a bowl of water and washed His disciples’ feet. At that time, everyone wore sandals and walked on dirt roads. When the head of the house came home, his servant would bend down and clean his feet. Therefore, the task was associated with servanthood. And that’s why Jesus did it. When He finished washing His disciples’ feet, Jesus told them, “You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you” (vv. 13–15).
Incredible. Here was the greatest man who ever lived. The Savior of the world. The King of kings and Lord of lords. No one has ever had more authority than Jesus. But what did Jesus do with all His authority? He washed His disciples’ feet. He served His followers.
When James and John, two of Jesus’ most loyal followers, asked Jesus if they could rule with Him in heaven, Jesus told them they had a wrong view of leadership. He said,
You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Mark 10:42–45)
Bill Gothard, along with many other religious, business, and political leaders, taught the opposite of what Jesus said: that people in high positions should exercise authority over those they lead. I used to assume that was true. Now I understand that James and John should have asked Jesus how they could help others flourish, not what they needed to do to gain power. The same is true of leaders today. The leaders I want to follow, and gladly obey, are those who do not want “to be served but to serve.”
Leaders serve not only those they lead but also God: the One who gave them their leadership. They are accountable to Him. This is so important! A leader without accountability is not a true leader. God does not give parents, presidents, pastors, or CEOs the freedom to lead however they want. They are accountable to God, and if they are abusive leaders, they will face consequences. We see a good example of this in Ezekiel 34, where God chastised the leaders of Israel for not serving their people.
What did God do about these dominating, abusive leaders? Ezekiel said God was going to rescue His people from them. He made it clear that God hates it when leaders abuse their authority. When that happens, God promises to free His people from their harmful leaders.
God took away these leaders’ positions and authority. He held them accountable. I’ve learned now that when I encounter a spiritual leader, I have to ask two questions: First, are they servant minded? Do they understand their role? Second, are they accountable to God? Do they go beyond the Word of God in their commands and expectations? Do they understand that there are limits to their leadership?
I didn’t truly understand this nature of leadership when I was younger. Because I misunderstood what a leader is, I didn’t examine any of Bill Gothard’s teaching. I assumed he was a spiritual authority—a prophet-like figure—and thought God wanted me to follow him.
I don’t know what would have happened to me if I stayed under the umbrella of authority and closely followed the rest of Gothard’s principles throughout my life. I know it would have been exhausting to try to please God by obeying man-made rules. Perhaps at some point the effort would have been too much. It was for thousands of Gothard’s followers who have left Christianity entirely because the rules were too much of a burden. I might have joined them.
Thankfully, when I was twenty-one years old, my life, and my view of Gothard’s teachings, started to change.