The Cult of Ole

There was one time Anthony tried to turn his back on Trinity--what he calls his lowest point. He'd been teaching for seven or eight years, but people weren't getting it. Clinging to their miserable little identities, they seemed unable to die to self and unwilling to see their idolatries. In a fury one day, Anthony jumped in a car and started driving west. He was done.

Styling himself after the Apostle Paul, Anthony often quoted his famous statement, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." Paul preached to hundreds on Mars Hill. Anthony had a group who could fit in his living room.

It was time to get his own Mars Hill.

When marketing whiz Harry Guetzlaff got involved with Trinity in 1983, he became the official archivist, taping and editing all of Anthony's Bible studies. He sent out letters and press releases, always on the lookout for a way in which Anthony could publicly expound his beliefs.

"The main thing the foundation was doing was trying to get Ole a forum," Doug Duncan says. "He had discovered this great doctrine, these forgotten truths that had been lost to Christianity."

But Anthony was a hard sell. While capable of compassion and generosity, he was unable to hide his contempt for those less intelligent. He had a wicked sense of humor but also a malicious streak. He'd been known to inject ribald, rude and sometimes ridiculous statements into Bible studies. According to one longtime member, he'd say things such as, "You're jacking Satan off" or "You're sucking on a menstrual rag."

And he refused to censor himself for anybody.

"Faith has to be total or it's not anything," Anthony says today. "If something comes to my mind, I say it. Therefore I make a jillion mistakes when it comes to dealing with people." (When Guetzlaff gigs him during an interview about treating his mother rudely, Anthony shoots back, "I treated my mother just like I treat everybody else." "Yeah, shitty," Guetzlaff says. "I just think your mother would have appreciated a little warm human interaction.")

Anthony's unbridled tongue was the reason his radio show got canceled in 1976. While Trinity's early efforts in producing radio and television programming tanked, preachers such as Robert Tilton were taking off. Surprise! People would rather hear Tilton purring that God loves them and wants to bless them than Anthony telling them "die to self, you miserable wretch."

Anthony couldn't flip the channels without getting furious at televangelists' blatant heresies and greed. That's when Trinity found its Mars Hill. Anthony gave speeches at National Religious Broadcasters conferences, testified before Congress and lobbied for tighter controls on religious fund-raising.

With no denomination, no real church, no money, no theological training and only a handful of core followers, Anthony proved a genius at leveraging what he did have: charisma and a gift for turning a phrase, plus dedicated "Levites"--core members, such as Duncan and Guetzlaff, who lived in community and conducted research on religious broadcasters and their latest antics.

Inch by inch, Anthony became a go-to guy.

And by the mid-'80s, Duncan had become Anthony's go-to guy. "He was one of the first guys I laid hands on to be a teacher," Anthony says. "He was an elder in the community and on the board of directors."

Trinity had become Duncan's life. Disapproving of his marriage and Trinity, which they considered a cult, Duncan's parents had cut him off. Duncan started selling mobile homes to support his wife and three children. They moved to the Block, but his long hours took a toll.

"People would make comments about the idolatry of success," Duncan says. To save his marriage, Duncan quit his job and finally found another one as a welfare caseworker. He made less money but had more time for Bible studies.

Lea Williams, who got involved in Trinity as a student in the early '80s, says the intellectual approach to Scripture that had attracted her subtly shifted. "It became more bombastic," she says. And more personal and nasty, as when Anthony pronounced Williams a "ball-buster."