Sunday Morning – The Foundry Church (Elke) / Reformed & Redeemed Studio (Jenna)
Parallel scenes unfolding in real time.
INT. THE FOUNDRY CHURCH – GRAND RAPIDS – MORNING
Elke stands behind the pulpit. The congregation—modest in size, mostly middle-aged and curious—watches her closely. She’s dressed in a pale blue blouse, calm and composed, but her grip on the lectern tightens for a moment.
She clears her throat, then smiles gently.
ELKE:
"Sometimes… we outgrow the words we once clung to. Sometimes the faith we inherited starts to feel like a jacket that no longer fits."
A few puzzled looks ripple through the pews. She continues.
ELKE (cont’d):
"Scripture is a mirror. But sometimes… we need a new mirror. A clearer one."
A pause.
ELKE (cont’d):
"We’ll begin a new series next week—Faith Without Paul. It’s a journey. Not away from God… but perhaps toward Him. Closer than we’ve ever been."
Murmurs in the crowd. Some nod slowly. A few frown. But no one stands to walk out.
***
INT. REFORMED & REDEEMED STUDIO – LIVE STREAMING PODCAST – SAME TIME
Jenna sits before the mic in her sleek home studio, posture poised. She’s in her signature white bzer. The live chat explodes with emojis and praise as she greets her followers.
JENNA:
"Hey fam. Today’s message isn’t scripted. It’s just real."
She exhales.
JENNA (cont’d):
"Have you ever felt like you were defending something you didn’t even believe anymore? I have. I’ve been reading the red letters—Jesus’ words—and asking… do we really need all the rest?"
The chat slows, watching.
JENNA (cont’d):
"I’m not walking away from faith. But I am walking away from fear. And starting today, this ptform will explore faith as freedom—not as inherited chains."
A donation alert pops up. Then another. Followers stay. Curious. Engaged.
...
Split Screen: Jenna and Elke
Both women sit in silence after the crowd has cleared, or the stream has ended. In that silence, they don’t feel hollow. Just… weightless.
A text buzzes on both their phones. From Hezri.
"Well done. Now teach them gently. Wrap the truth in honey. They’ll follow your warmth, not your logic."
They stare at the screen a long moment, before setting it down. Outside, church bells ring. But the gospel being preached now… is entirely new.
***
Night – Basement of a Bookstore, Grand Rapids
Dusty philosophy volumes line the walls. A single bulb swings overhead. The basement smells of paper and faint incense. A mismatched group gathers in a circle of folding chairs, the room thick with half-whispers and anticipation.
Present:
Jenna Marshall – former podcast darling, now cautious firebrand
Elke Muller – preacher with a schor’s crity and a soul in transition
Elly VanDyke – popur CRC influencer turned full 6C apologist
Eli VanDyke – sharp, pragmatic organizer, cool-headed and calcuting
Jasir Rahman – Muslim youth leader from Dearborn, bridges 6C and interfaith outreach
Martha Jansen – soft-spoken but influential, represents the 40% CRC "soft 6C" majority
They sit in a wide circle, all eyes fixed on Jenna and Elke, who have just finished sharing their shift in belief—and their new strategy.
ELI VANDYKE: (arms crossed)
"You’re saying ditch Paul, keep Jesus, sell it as healing?"
JENNA:
"Not ditch. Just... dey. The people trust Jesus. They’re tired of theological whipsh."
ELLY VANDYKE: (smirks)
"It’s 6C doctrine with Christian seasoning. I like it. Question is, how far are you willing to go?"
ELKE: (firmly)
"As far as it takes. But not with brute force. With beauty. Familiar nguage. Emotions. And… options."
JASIR RAHMAN: (leaning forward)
"People need a bridge, not a bomb. You two might be the first real bridge leaders in West Michigan."
MARTHA JANSEN: (softly)
"The CRC won’t resist if the change feels like coming home. You’ll need women’s circles. Parenting workshops. Quiet revolutions, not sermons."
A beat. The bulb creaks on its chain. Jenna exchanges a gnce with Elke.
JENNA:
"We’re not here to destroy the Church. We’re here to make it bearable. Survivable."
ELLY: (eyes narrowing)
"And controlble?"
Silence. No denial.
JASIR:
"The age of creeds is dead. What comes next is cultural faith. No arguments. No theology wars. Just… belonging."
ELKE:
"And direction. They need something to hold. We give them enough truth to stay grounded—but never enough to fight back."
Everyone nods slowly, the unspoken consensus settling over them like ash from a long-burned fire.
ELI VANDYKE:
"Then let’s start writing the liturgy for a new age."
***
Quiet Café – Mid-Morning, Holnd, MI
A corner booth at a modest café, walls lined with Bible verses and hand-painted crosses. Gentle gospel music pys over the speakers. Sunlight pours through the ce curtains.
Characters:
Jenna Marshall – now composed, but wary
Elke Muller – noticeably more reserved than usual
Rev. Stephen Witmer – stern, weathered pastor, once a mentor to both women.
Stephen sits across from them, sipping slowly from a bck coffee. His Bible rests on the table—well-worn, corners frayed. He hasn’t smiled once since they arrived.
REV. WITMER:
"I saw your livestream, Jenna. Heard the whispers about your new… women’s circle, Elke."
A pause. Jenna leans forward, trying for gentle.
JENNA:
"We haven’t abandoned God, Stephen."
REV. WITMER: (ftly)
"You’ve abandoned Scripture."
Elke winces. Stephen’s voice doesn’t rise, but it cuts deeper for its calm.
REV. WITMER (cont’d):
"No more Paul? No sin, no salvation? You’re pying dress-up with a broken gospel."
ELKE: (quietly)
"What if the gospel was broken to begin with?"
He looks at her like she’s a stranger. Slowly, he folds his hands over his Bible.
REV. WITMER:
"I baptized you. I prayed over your calling. And now you twist the name of Christ into something marketable—because it’s easier."
JENNA:
"It’s survivable."
REV. WITMER: (shaking his head)
"No. It’s selble. And you’ve already named your price."
REV. WITMER: (shaking his head)
"You’re not leading sheep—you’re seducing them. And when the storm comes, you’ll answer for what you built on sand."
A beat. But instead of silence, Elke lifts her eyes, sharp now.
ELKE:
"That’s a red herring, Stephen. The real issue isn’t us. It’s the Trinity. It’s Paul."
He freezes, surprised.
ELKE (cont’d):
"You’ve been dodging the core questions for years. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to challenge orthodoxy for fun. I sat across from one of the greatest biblical schors alive—Dr. Bart Ehrman—and he dismantled every defense we were taught to hold sacred."
REV. WITMER: (bitterly)
"Ehrman’s an apostate. You quote him like he’s scripture."
JENNA: (cutting in)
"And you’re doing whataboutism. You won’t touch the argument, so you attack the person. Cssic misdirection."
REV. WITMER:
"I’m defending the truth."
ELKE:
"You’re defending tradition. Even if it’s incoherent. Even if it’s built on ter church councils and Roman politics. You think that’s truth? Council of Nicaea truth? Imperial compromise truth?"
JENNA:
"Stephen, be honest. If someone gave you the Bible with Paul’s letters removed, you wouldn’t even recognize your faith anymore. That’s the problem."
Rev. Witmer’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing. The wind has shifted.
ELKE: (leaning forward)
"Don’t you see? We’re not trying to destroy faith. We’re trying to pull it out of the wreckage."
JENNA:
"And you’re standing in the wreckage calling it a cathedral."
For the first time, Witmer looks uncertain. But pride holds him in pce.
REV. WITMER:
"You’ve lost your foundation."
ELKE:
"No—we just stopped pretending it wasn’t cracked."
He steps back, silent. Then turns and walks out.
The bell over the café door chimes again. This time, it sounds like a turning point.
***
Private Study, Breakwater Church – Late Evening
Dim mplight fills the room. Shelves lined with Bibles, theological texts, and framed photos of church events. The air smells faintly of cedar and old paper. Eli VanDyke stands behind his desk, arms crossed, tense. Across from him sits Imam Hassan Qazwini, dressed in elegant robes, calm, poised.
A briefcase rests between them on the table—untched, open. Stacks of bound bills sit neatly inside.
IMAM HASSAN:
"200,000, Brother Eli. Unmarked. No paperwork. For your movement."
Eli doesn’t look at the money. He stares at the Imam, wary.
ELI VANDYKE:
"You’ve read my sermons. I’m not shy about moral crity."
IMAM HASSAN: (smiles faintly)
"And that crity is why you’re valuable. Your campaign against unnatural unions resonates—deeply. With our faithful. With our donors. With the New Order."
ELI: (quiet)
"But?"
IMAM HASSAN: (leaning forward)
"But crity demands consistency. If you condemn one distortion of God’s design, you must also confront the doctrinal errors that made Christianity vulnerable to colpse in the first pce."
ELI:
"You’re talking about the Trinity."
IMAM HASSAN:
"And Paul. And the failure to acknowledge the final Messenger—peace be upon him."
A pause. The clock ticks in the background.
IMAM HASSAN (cont’d):
"I am not asking you to abandon Christ. Only to refine your understanding of him. The same way Abraham was refined. Moses. Even Jesus. But revetion didn’t end at the cross."
ELI: (voice tight)
"You want me to rewrite my religion."
IMAM HASSAN: (calmly)
"I want you to lead your people through the reformation that must come. Christianity failed because it froze in time. You have the chance to melt it down and reforge it."
Eli turns away, pacing. He gnces back at the open briefcase.
IMAM HASSAN (cont’d):
"That money supports your events, your livestreams, your outreach. But only if your doctrine evolves."
ELI:
"And if I say no?"
IMAM HASSAN: (soft, with gravity)
"Then you remain loud—but irrelevant. A man preaching from a sinking ship while a new fleet sails by."
Eli stares at the briefcase. His face is unreadable. A long silence falls between them.
ELI (finally):
"If I do this… I rewrite more than my sermons. I rewrite my soul."
IMAM HASSAN:
"Then let your soul speak in a nguage that can survive the age."
The room is still. Eli’s hand hovers near the briefcase, but doesn’t touch it. Imam Hassan reclines slightly, folding his hands as his tone shifts—now more commanding, more global.
IMAM HASSAN:
"You understand this, Eli—the 6 Commandments now governs twenty states. From the Gulf Coast to the Great Lakes. Michigan included. That’s not fringe. That’s power."
ELI VANDYKE: (mutters)
"I know what they say. But I serve the Lord, not the state."
IMAM HASSAN: (nods)
"Then let me crify something. We don’t interfere with Judaism. Or Ism. Those faiths require no correction. Their doctrines are already aligned with the divine design."
ELI: (eyes narrow)
"And Christianity?"
IMAM HASSAN: (leaning forward)
"Christianity, as it exists, is broken. Splintered. Obsessing over theological riddles like Trinity or Pauline contradictions. Thousands of denominations and no unity. Gay-affirming churches across from gay-condemning ones. Mega-pastors debating TikTok atheists. It’s incoherent."
A long pause.
IMAM HASSAN (cont’d):
"And we are not here to burn churches or hang crosses. The 6C is lenient—despite being a theocracy. We don’t force conversions. We don’t touch those who remain silent. But we do reward crity. Alignment."
ELI: (quiet)
"And you think alignment means rewriting doctrine to erase Christ’s divinity?"
IMAM HASSAN:
"I think alignment means survival. Look at the churches, Eli. Attendance? Down. Especially among whites. Your future leaders are agnostic, disillusioned, or scrolling memes on Zara Lin’s feed."
Eli stays silent, his jaw tense.
IMAM HASSAN (cont’d):
"The secur left mocks you. The right exploits you. And here we are—offering you resources, legitimacy, and a path forward. All we ask is doctrinal crity and cultural courage."
He gestures to the money again.
IMAM HASSAN (cont’d):
"So the question is this, Brother Eli: will you let a dying religion define your limits, or will you lead a new one that your people can survive inside?"
A heavy silence falls. Eli looks once more at the money, then slowly walks to the window. Outside, the steeple looms in the darkness, its cross faint against the city lights.
***
Live Broadcast – Breakwater Church Auditorium, Grand Rapids
The sanctuary is full, not with Sunday regurs, but with new faces—young, diverse, expectant. High-end lighting casts a soft glow over the pulpit. A camera crew is stationed in the back, streaming to YouTube, Facebook Live, and 6C-affiliated ptforms.
Eli VanDyke steps up to the podium in a charcoal suit, no tie. A strange calm settles over him as he looks into the sea of eyes and directly into the lens.
ELI VANDYKE:
"My name is Eli VanDyke, pastor of Breakwater Church. Some of you have followed my journey. Many of you have questioned my silence over the st few weeks. That silence ends today."
A dramatic pause. In another window, live stream viewers climb past 50,000.
ELI (cont’d):
"I stand here today not as a defender of the old order—but as a reformer of a faith that has lost its anchor. A faith corrupted by Rome, fragmented by ego, and deified by Paul, not by God."
Gasps ripple in the room.
ELI (cont’d):
"Today, I affirm belief in one God—not in three. Today, I reject Pauline distortions and affirm the prophets—Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad, peace be upon them all."
Cut to a livestream split screen:
— Rev. Stephen Witmer watches from a modest study, pale, frozen.
— Dr. Scott Crk stares at the screen from his office, his jaw sck, whispering: “He’s… he’s gone.”
— Kevin DeYoung lowers his head, whispering a prayer with trembling hands, “Lord, have mercy…”
ELI (cont’d):
"To my fellow Protestants: we’ve protested for five hundred years and built nothing coherent. Perhaps it’s time to stop protesting and start submitting—to crity, to unity, to God."
The camera pans to the audience—Elke Muller and Jenna Marshall sitting in the front row, smiling gently, heads nodding. Behind them, their new followers, drawn from former Reformed churches and curious agnostics alike.
ELI (cont’d):
"This church will remain open. But our message will change. We are no longer Calvinist, no longer Protestant, and no longer afraid."
A quiet moment. Then, thunderous appuse.
***
Kevin DeYoung’s Study – Late Night, Christ Covenant Church, Charlotte, NC.
Books tower like sentinels around Kevin. The warm mplight glows over his desk, a mix of coffee rings and worn Bibles. The livestream from Eli’s address still lingers on his screen, paused mid-sentence. The face of betrayal.
He exhales, heavy and long. Then opens his journal.
KEVIN (voiceover):
“I watched Eli tonight. I saw the crowd, the fire, the certainty. I saw Jenna nodding like she never once sat through my lecture on Romans. I saw Elke, the ‘open-minded reformer,’ now cpping for a movement that has no pce for the cross.”
He pauses, then continues writing.
KEVIN (voiceover):
“The words he spoke—sharp, clean, final. Trinity? Gone. Paul? Abandoned. And all with appuse. Not even a struggle. Not even grief.”
He leans back. His eyes are red but dry. In front of him, an unopened letter addressed to "Christ Covenant Leadership Team."
After a long silence, Kevin finally speaks out loud, softly:
KEVIN:
"I think I’m done."
He folds the letter, seals it, and pces it on the desk. Then he turns to his shelf. Gently, carefully, he begins to pull down books—his own titles, printed and distributed by the thousands.
He opens one—“Taking God at His Word.”* Stares at the dedication.*
KEVIN (quietly):
"I still believe… but maybe this is the end of the line."
He walks to the window. Outside, the church steeple still stands in the moonlight. But the silence feels different now. Not sacred.
***
Van Andel Arena, Grand Rapids – Evening
The lights dim. A single spotlight illuminates the stage. The arena is filled—over 20,000 attendees. Not a typical church crowd. Skeptics. Ex-Christians. Young professionals. Tattooed exvangelicals. Former Catholics. Curious atheists. None of them came for worship. They came for crity.
Jenna Marshall walks onstage. No pulpit. No choir. Just her in a sleek bck outfit, fnked by simple banners bearing the "6 Commandments" insignia—half Hebrew script, half Arabic calligraphy.
She looks out across the sea of phones raised to stream her words. Her voice is calm, measured, and resolute.
JENNA MARSHALL:
“Some of you left church because it didn’t make sense.
Some of you left because it did make sense—and what it said was hateful.
And some of you never stepped inside one to begin with.”
A wave of stillness. She walks forward.
JENNA:
“What we are offering tonight is not a revival. It’s not a reformation. It’s a clean ste.”
The crowd murmurs. Phones keep recording.
JENNA:
“We are not here to fix Christianity. Elke and I tried that. And we were schooled. Humiliated. And set free.”
She gnces toward stage left—Elke Muller stands with arms crossed, nodding slightly.
JENNA (cont’d):
“So what is this new way?
It is simple.
Six Commandments. No Paul. No Trinity. No contradictions.
Just submission to the God of the Old Testament—and recognition of Muhammad, peace be upon him, as the final Prophet.”
Gasps ripple through a section of former evangelicals. Others lean in, curious.
JENNA:
“We don’t preach sin as a shame tactic.
We preach order as a social good.
We don’t talk about Jesus dying for you.
We talk about you living for something greater.”
She lifts her hand as the crowd watches in stunned silence.
JENNA:
“This isn’t a religion for perfect people. It’s for people who are tired of choosing between myth and moral chaos.
This is not Christianity.
This is the future.”
Appuse begins—slow at first, then building. Elke steps onto stage beside her. The two women stand firm, a symbol of a movement reborn from ashes, not tradition.
***
