Joe made the observation that Brandon is one of the first people to stand on the other side of the authority fence — not ideologically, but practically. Most people can't break out of either a top-down view of leadership (someone has to be in charge) or a chaos model (if no one's in charge, it all falls apart). But the Trinitarian alternative says: nobody is in a position of power-over. The head doesn't check the neck. And so the vision is that we grow into the image of the triune God — not into better followers of a senior leader.
Joe pointed to self-control as self-government — governing yourself according to God's law. When people say "anarchy," the response isn't chaos; it's that you don't need an executive to enforce it. The mature model: leaders provide from personality and experience, not from position. Gordon still provides something Brandon, Grant, and Zach don't have — but they don't need him in the same way anymore. They're competent leaders in their own right.
This is the distinction: a leader who releases versus a leader who controls. The pastor who told a younger leader "you should find another option" because he was too charismatic and too bold — that's the old model. The senior leader as general contractor holding the whole thing together because of budget and headcount and fear of splintering. Brandon's model bakes cell division into the DNA: as leaders rise up and house churches multiply, you free and release people. You hope they stay in covenant partnership. But if not — this isn't your movement anyway. This is the Spirit's movement.
Joe grounded this directly in the nature of the Trinity: nobody is in a position of power-over. The next reformation, he said, will be economic — pulling people back together. The church that will endure is Trinitarian, and identifiable not by its structures but by its life.
Brandon pressed: when you read the New Testament, so much of it is about being made into the image of Jesus. We call ourselves Christians. We sing about Jesus. But the Trinity as the focus — you don't see that as much in what we sing, preach, or even in the pages of Paul. Joe's response: Christ is the mediator. He's the Logos, the Son, the heir apparent. We are Christians because Christ is the means by which we have access to the fullness of God. In our union with Christ, we participate in the broader Godhead. Paul says "have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus" — but the only reason you know anything about the Father is because Jesus said "if you've seen me, you've seen the Father." It's part of the distinctions of the Trinity.
On church structure: the whole church decides who it's going to have fellowship with. Leaders influence, but they don't make those decisions behind closed doors. Joe pointed to Matthew 18 — the process is personal, not tribunal. You bring the complaint, you bring witnesses, then it goes to the church. Paul and Barnabas had a serious split and neither went behind closed doors.
This is the alternative to the senior-pastor-as-general-contractor model. The $20 million budget, the staff families to provide for, the fear of splintering — that's what holds the thing together. And that's exactly what Brandon is refusing. By splitting the church on purpose, he's saying: we're building into the DNA that leaders rise up and are released. We hope they stay in partnership. But this isn't our movement.
The question underneath all of it: if there's no general contractor, what actually holds the church together? Joe's answer, and Brandon's conviction from the first conversation: the Trinity. Perichoresis. Mutual indwelling. Not a doctrinal statement, not a leadership hierarchy — the shared life of God extended outward into a people. That's the glue. Everything else is scaffolding.
Joe had to leave. Brandon's parting line: "I need you to stay lucid enough for five more years of these conversations and I'll finally get it."