Stark County pastor featured on ‘60 Minutes’ QAnon episode
LAKE TWP. — The Rev. Derek Kubilus has grown so concerned about the influence of QAnon that he launched a weekly podcast, “Cross Over Q,” to address it.
The pastor at United Methodist Church of Uniontown was featured last week on CBS’s “60 Minutes” during a segment about QAnon, which is centered on unsubstantiated online conspiracy theories.
Even the identity of its creator is unknown.
“I have seen the carnage following QAnon has created in lives,” Kubilus said, “I’ve seen the way it has started tearing families apart. I’ve seen it become an addiction for some. Then, when I saw the pictures of the Capitol insurrection and the cross being carried next to signs with ‘Q’ emblazoned on them, I just knew I had to start doing something.”
There are many reasons a person might gravitate toward a movement like QAnon, he said.
“I believe that people are searching for meaning and purpose in their lives. Unfortunately, we in the church may not have been providing that. But also, I think that politics has taken on an increasingly radical and apocalyptical role in people’s lives, and technology has created social echo chambers.”
The Akron native who has served at Uniontown UMC since 2018 said the response to his podcast has been largely positive.
“I have received a number of emails from people thanking me for the podcasts,” he said. “I have heard from people who have recovered from QAnon, people wanting to help family members recover, and people who are just starting to figure out they’ve been misled.”
A recent poll conducted by the American Enterprise Institute found that 27% of white Evangelicals and 18% of white Catholics surveyed believe that QAnon theories have some legitimacy. The poll also reported that QAnon has the support of 12% of non-Christians, 11% of Latino Catholics and 7% of Black Protestants.
However, 500 evangelical leaders just signed and published an open leader describing any Christian’s involvement in the violence on Jan. 6 as “heretical.”
Kubilus said the podcast is centered on compassion and caring rather than on hatred and ridicule.
“A lot of people make fun of QAnon and make fun of people who believe in it, but truly, I believe that only drives them deeper down the rabbit hole,” he said. “I’m not a trained psychologist or a counselor, but one piece of advice I have to give is to stay calm, to not get frustrated, to ask questions, and to share how their answers to those questions make you feel.”
Falling away from conspiracy
A sizable number of people involved with QAnon also ascribe to Christianity, Kubilus said.
“Some of them began to fall away when the Capitol (building) insurrection happened, and when they saw the destructive power of QAnon,” he said. “Others fell away when the president ( Joe Biden) was inaugurated, which was something they were certain would never happen.”
Kubilus said some pastors encourage conspiratorial thinking while others have shied away from it “for fear of being labeled political.”
“People are hurting because of this,” he said. “They need the voice of their leaders.”
Karim Zidan, an investigative journalist and contributor to Right Wing Watch, said QAnon’s reach has expanded beyond faith.
“It is now more of a complex web of borrowed conspiracy theories compartmentalized into a single digestible concept,” he said. “Its multi-pronged approach and endless rabbit holes make it appealing to a wide range of people of all kinds, from yogis to Christians, and from the exceptionally rich to the downtrodden. It also seems to influence those who are not satisfied with their current reality.”
‘Propaganda guy’
Kerry Noble sees a lot of himself in QAnon followers.
In the 1970s and ’80s, the Dallas man was second-in-command with Covenant, the Sword & the Arm of the Lord, a violent, Christian-identity survivalist organization rumored to have ties with the Oklahoma City bombers.
Author of the book, “Tabernacle of Hate: Seduction into Right-Wing Extremism,” Noble has been featured in documentaries and programs examining extremist movements.
“We had conspiracy theories back in our day, too,” he said. “Of course, they’ve always been around. As soon as you touch the rally movement, there are conspiracy theories.”
For example, CSA embraced the belief that Jews are the offspring of Eve and the snake in the Garden of Eden; that Caucasians are the true Jews of the Bible, and all other races are inferior. The group also identified itself as apocalyptic and devoted time and resources to preparing for the end times.
“Our foundational belief was in becoming, at some point, a refuge for people to come to,” Noble said. “When we were introduced to the conspiracy stuff, it seemed to add to the basic building blocks of our apocalyptic worldview.”
On April 19, 1985, Noble, founder Jame Ellison and other CSA leaders were arrested at their Arkansas compound following a fourday armed standoff with federal agents on charges of illegal gun possession, racketeering and sedition.
Noble, who pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of conspiracy, served 26 months of a five-year sentence.
Noble said that because CSA existed prior to the internet, members exchanged information with other groups through newsletters.
“I was the propaganda guy,” he said. “Our mailing list was 2,000 a month. The only thing we were getting from the outside was rightwing material. In our day, we knew who it was coming from but with QAnon, these people don’t even know who
Q is. That amazes me.”
Noble said conspiracy theories feed on a torrent of misinformation.
“We started setting (apocalypse) dates in 1979,” he said. “It’d be almost season-to-season based on the information we had. If it seemed serious enough, we’d believe it.”
But Noble said even he was stunned at the insurrection on Jan. 6, which included QAnon adherents.
“I was absolutely shocked,” he said. “I expected some people acting out, but not to the degree of rioting.”
Noble said the people most susceptible to conspiracy theories are those deeply unhappy with their lives.
“You always have outward stimuli that get you to this point, but the basic one is, at a certain point in time, you’re not happy with your life,” he said. “The articles about the rioters that have come out were about how many were in financial straits and in trouble with the law. When life goes out of control, you want someone to blame. That is the one common thread in right-wing extremism.”
Noble said that as a CSA recruiter, he looked for such people.