My Time with the New Apostolic Reformation

June 14th, 2025

I started hanging out at a young adult group at Calvary Temple. One night at this similar “cool kid church” but with a tenth of the people attending, I encountered a high-school drop-out kind of kid who also wanted to be a signed Christian rapper. His music was very amateurish at the time and I wanted to share with him what I had learned about computer-based music production. However, he wanted to sound like a mainstream secular radio artist, while I preferred an underground sound.

He had plans to collaborate with two-time Grammy Award winner Fresh I.E. And he actually did what I never could have done. He produced some tracks with Fresh and released a few of them on a site called Soundclick.

When I saw this kid starting out shortly after leaving Springs, he was still struggling with addiction to drugs and alcohol. He was part of a group called Teen Challenge, a ministry created to train young women and men to get past addictions of various things, including drugs, alcohol, and porn, all while reintegrating into the working world.

At one meeting in Calvary Temple, I saw this kid and a fellow Teen Challenge rap enthusiast started free-styling a rap battle on stage between the devil and the rappers. It wasn't anything deep, and some of the lyrics were pretty corny. But his lyrics also talked about some very bizarre things. This kid was spitting rhymes about fire tunnels and the “She-kana” glory, getting drunk in the spirit, and soaking up the grave.

After the service, I did get a taste of one of those weird things all over his music: a fire tunnel. The fire tunnel in this church involved people forming two parallel lines between where the chairs were and the stage were with the band performing on it. People in the lines would pray and glossolalia thing known as “speaking in tongues,” and would yell things like, “More, Lord!” or “Fire!” which was all about being “set on fire” with passion for all things Christian.

Whoever went through this tunnel would fall over and have to crawl away, or if they were able to handle the crowds of people laying hands on them, they would stumble through and they would lie down as if they went through a mosh pit. Even though I knew quite a bit of bible after studying for a couple of years, I wanted a piece of the action because while going through the tunnel, you’re supposed to be filled with the Holy Ghost.

I wanted to know more about this enthusiastic fire and how it could spread so that more Christians would get the sticks out of their legalistic butts. So I decided to go through the fire tunnel. Looking back, I believed I experienced some spiritual phenomena. I did feel the communion and unity among the people that were there, but once I staggered out, I was tired. I felt violated because the people were putting pressure on me to go down and I just wanted to move out of the way so someone else could go through. I did fall down a few seconds after exiting, and when I was on my back I started to cry. The tears happened multiple times in these hyperactive charismatic revival-based services without the fire-tunnel. And years later when I look back on this interesting time as a Christian, I realized that the reason I was crying is because this kind of service caused me sensory overload. 

There were times when I would question the ideas of “The New Apostolic Reformation” itself. What kind of Christianity is this? How did we get the actual teachings behind these “moves of God.”

I grew up familiar with churches like this. My dad was converted into the Jesus Movement in the late 1970s and there were people talking outlandishly, shaking violently, sharing revelations that were over the top, and falling in the Spirit. But there were points in these kinds of churches now where people did more absurd off-the-wall things, like discussing drop-kicking a pastor, or waving flags around or dancing with poles, and had even gone as far as doing things like barking like a dog.

Even with all this going on, I formed some deep friendships with a few members there and was even introduced to my wife by a couple that had gotten married at Calvary Temple. We still did the usual things that young adults in church services did, like go out to dinner after services, occasionally try to preach to people on the street, but I still wanted to get some people together in this inner city church to do one thing: create epic on-fire-for-Jesus rap music.

When doing so, I collaborated with two friends, Anthony and Dylan. Anthony went by the name Ant B while Dylan had the rap handle Aposto. Ant B did an epic freestyle on our track called The Second Coming while Aposto put in some of his own “fire and brimstone” lyrics. The song was included in my Address to Earth mixtape. Sadly, all three of us had disagreements when it came to our beat-making so our proposed D12 (or D3) alternative album did not happen. I was into lofi, sampling, and East Coast boom bap (I wanted more of a Gangstarr sound from the 90s). Ant B loved making Dirty South rap with hardware MPCs and keyboards, and Aposto just wanted to go off on sinners over secular beats that sounded like Timbaland had a baby with Eminem and KJ-52.

The Christian rapper-wannabe and security guard who I’d always get along with was a dude named Koffi. We would trade rhymes and mentor each other in the ways of holy beat-making. He knew how to balance sizing one-self as an MC while also preaching a good word over West Coast beats. While G-funk wasn’t really my thing, I was able to discover that the free Synth1 VST (a software synth instrument used even by a lot of bedroom producers today) was extremely versatile in the style he was going for. Hopefully by giving him that tip, he’s still making some amazing tracks today (although he may be using Serum or Vital software now).

Outside of creating rap music, I started attending Calvary Temple and had gotten myself involved in a New Apostolic Reformation young adult group, unbeknownst to Pastor Bruce Martin. After a young Gerry Michalski left Calvary Temple as a young adult pastor to build Soul Sanctuary, a reverend named Trevor Meier showed up with a Holy Spirit experience of fire in St. Louis, Missouri, and took the young adult position that needed to be filled. Meier had connections with Canadian charismatic leaders like Kevin Thompson, John Arnott, Faytene Grasseschi, and Will and Stacey Campbell. Meier wanted to start Apostolic Reformation services on Sunday evenings at Calvary Temple.

These services were called "Beyond." These nights were even more erratic than what goes on at Springs. Not only did some radical Christian speakers and worship leaders like Jason Upton and Sean Feucht show up, but fire-tunnels were also happening. People were casting out demons, declaring hedges of protection over people, and catching people who fell after being “slain in the spirit.” There was spiritual drunkenness, flag waving, groups of people violently shaking, rolling on the ground, screaming, running up and down the aisles prophesying. One man was crying so intensely, he was actually having a heart attack. After people thought he was demon-possessed and started to cast out the demon, someone called an ambulance to get him to a hospital. I don’t actually know if that someone still goes to Calvary Temple or not. That kind of says a lot.

And then there was me, just lying on the ground throughout the service, in sensory overload, gaslighting myself into deeply believing and even silently begging God to change my autistic circumstances. I prayed for weeks and months that God would get me a better job or help me be a more charismatic hip-hop artist and overcome being an introvert. Again, nothing changed. I was still working crappy call centre jobs, I almost cut my fingers off at a temporary position as a chef’s assistant, and couldn’t make any more friends than the ones I already had.

Something did change, however, and that was because Todd Bentley was coming to Calvary Temple in March 2008 before heading to Florida.

Todd Bentley was born in a small town in British Columbia in 1976. His parents divorced when he was a teenager and he was sent around various foster homes. He got into crime, drugs and alcohol and was arrested multiple times. One of those arrests was for sexually assaulting a child. While he was in prison, Todd converted to Christianity, and after being released from jail, he devoted his life to reading the Bible and moving in the Holy Spirit with signs, wonders, and miracles. Naturally, he would eventually become involved with the New Apostolic Reformation. By 1997, Todd Bentley was a regular speaker in a small church in Vancouver where the meetings had young people experiencing the Holy Spirit for the first time. These radical services on the West Coast eventually led to Todd's launch of the viral but controversial Lakeland Revival in June 2008.

I thought Todd was just going to be another Christian with a suit and tie or one of the cool kid pastors from before, but this guy had tattoos covering his entire skin. He had piercings all over his face. He had a leather vest and ripped jeans. He was a short but very tough looking individual and I was terrified just looking at him. After Bentley shared his wild testimony of how the holy spirit “changed” his life, what happened next was so extraordinary that it had to be witnessed to be believed. Todd wasn't just screaming words while casting out demons or prophesying; he was also punching, kicking, and karate chopping other believers into spiritual experiences that night. 

I was an usher for the evening. I was told that Todd was so overcome by the spirit that he had to touch (or spiritually impart) every single person with the holy spirit. The chaos was so intense that when people started to line up outside of the service area, I had to tell them where to stand so that Todd would get a chance to touch and pray over them. As Todd approached certain people in the lines, they began to shake violently and some even fell without him even touching or speaking to them. I just stood there, frozen, not knowing what to expect from this guy that reminded me of Meat Sweats from Ninja Turtles. Thoughts went through my head like, “oh great, he's probably going to give me an uppercut” or do a misappropriated “Shoryuken” from Street Fighter on me or something.

Once he faced me, with red eyes that rendered me completely numb, he yelled, “TAKE THE FEAR OUT IN JESUS’ NAME!” I felt like time slowed down as his fist collided with my stomach, as if I was in a game where the frame rate was ten per second. I was flying backwards and screaming. My upper back hit the wall behind me and I fell face-first from the impact. While I was shaking on the floor, a thought crept through my mind. Was any of this stuff real ever since I had an encounter with God in 2004? It was so cool and it was so thrilling, but is this all actually real? Or should I press charges because I was just violently assaulted?

I had a street-evangelising friend at the time who we nicknamed Moose because he was physically very big-boned. He had a similar experience. Todd couldn't reach Moose’s head to lay hands on him, but he claims he was still “hit with the power of God.” Moose didn't fall backward like most people to get caught by one of the catchers. He almost fell forward on top of Todd.

After the service, a few Calvary Temple friends and I, including Moose, considered ourselves practicing disciples of the New Apostolic Reformation. With Reverend Trevor Meier’s blessing and some word of knowledge on prophecy, we were chosen as apostles sent to travel all over Manitoba after Todd Bentley filled us with the Holy Spirit. Moose was the one who inspired me to go all in on the NAR. He was singing songs, sharing what God was doing while he was street evangelizing, and telling wild stories of the people he spread fire to and miraculously healed through God's power. When we drove out to different churches to spread the New Apostolic Reformation gospel and revival in Manitoba, I was genuinely excited to minister to other believers in small churches, but I kept asking myself questions about what was really happening as we drove from church to church.

I had booked some time off in the summer of 2008 to “spread the fire,” so I could give my autistic brain some rest after our tour. I allso wanted to keep up with what was going on at Lakeland, Florida via livestream, and pray during the day. We started our revival tour by going to two churches a week to spread the same revival, but soon we were driving to rural Manitoba churches every evening from Morden to Brandon to Winkler. The services ran late, and I only had two hours of sleep some nights.  One service was so crazy it went as late as 3 in the morning in Portage La Prairie and my driver had to “call in sick” for the following day. He didn’t join us after that and I’m thankful he made that decision.

We all needed a break, but we collectively thought that deep down, if we didn't share what God wanted us to share with many Manitoban Christians in rural areas of the province, they wouldn't encounter the fullness of the Holy Spirit like what happened in the Lakeland Revival.

Moose, the team, and I decided to give what we spiritually had, one last time. We were on the road to Bethel Brandon for our last revival service. I didn’t care about what happened anymore. I just wanted life to be different. I went through the motions until around 10pm. Moose was speaking in tongues while holding a shaking man and yelling 'clear' every so often, and pretending to zap the man with what he called 'Holy Ghost jumper cables'. Two of the other guys were playing “Fire Tag,” a game where the person who is it has to impart a blessing by tagging another person, and the cycle goes on.

I was out of breath from all the activity. Even though I was only catching people who were falling down in the spirit, it got to the point where I had to sit down. I just wanted to tell everyone that we needed to wrap it up. I took a pew, and I waited for everyone to slow down but they were not slowing down. Another team member was so energized by the spirit that he looked like he was on meth or ecstasy. He came up to me smiling, vibrating and excited, and he was yelling, 'It's time to take a drink!' in order for me to get drunk in the spirit. He kept pretending to pour spiritual beer into my mouth while pushing my forehead and yelling, fire, fire, fire, fire!

I finally couldn't take it anymore. I sprang to my feet and yelled at everyone to stop and shut it down. The room went silent. Nobody tried to cast out a demon from me. We all slowly filed out of the church and drove to our homes in silence.

I never watched the Lakeland livestream. I decided to make plans to leave Winnipeg and attend smaller churches who weren’t so extreme in their prosperity or Pentecostalism. I remember one service where Reverend Meier mentioned that if we weren’t living the lifestyle of the NAR, there was something wrong with us. I concluded after that summer that there was something wrong with anything Pentecostal related.

Many attendees of Beyond knew this whole “revival” was going to be over at some point. Around spring in 2009, Pastor Martin and Trevor Meier started having "conversations" in terms of the direction of this “movement” since news of Todd Bentley and his sexual issues slowly started coming to light. The Beyond services shut down eventually.

Here’s where some of the team I was with in 2008 is today. One member moved to California to serve at Bethel Church in Redding, but soon he went broke. He came back to Winnipeg after attending the January 6th events in Washington (at least he claimed he did). He now works in a call centre and wears a MAGA hat. I know, because I still check up on his Facebook posts.

Moose became a center leftist. He protests with people who believe Every Child Matters. Another team member I was close with became a feminist. Another team member was arrested for his own sexual misconduct.

Another member joined the Freedom Convoy. And another member who also was part of the Winnipeg convoy tried to get me to join their rag-tag protest, and after I scolded him on his Christian nationalism via Messenger, he blocked me.