The Denver Rescue Mission Fired Me and Here is Why

Looking back on my time at the Denver Rescue Mission, the person I feel worst for isn’t myself. I accomplished what God called me to do, but I stayed three years longer than I should have.

That disobedience led to my termination. I share this not out of bitterness but as a testament to the truth, which will speak for itself in the years to come.

Let me get straight to the point: I was fired. The official reason? A YouTube video where I used the term “negro” while referencing President Barack Obama. Their sudden outrage over my supposed racism was ironic, given their open disdain for the nation's first Black president.

Me, being black a well, made their indignation all the more suspicious.

Shortly after being terminated, I received a letter signed by Brad Meuli (CEO), Linda Brown, and Hugh Burns, declaring me persona non grata—a term meaning “you are not welcome here ever again.”

In the letter, they urged me to seek Jesus’s forgiveness for what they called a “ghastly sin.” It was as if a group of Ku Klux Klansmen or Skinheads, who hate black people, demanded I repent for race crimes against black folk!

Yet, they never sought forgiveness for their own transgressions which will be outlined in a series of perhaps twenty or more posts.

The hypocrisy within the leadership at the Denver Rescue Mission was staggering. Here are just a few examples of what they didn’t consider “sinful”:

• False accusations: Steve Walkup, VP of Operations at the time, once threatened me with a fabricated sexual assault allegation from a white woman. Although he was eventually written up, it only happened after I involved a government organization called the EEOC and the mission was staring down a judgment of around $125,000.

  
  

• Inappropriate relationships: Brad Meuli had an unprofessional relationship with his PR Director, Greta, which I overheard firsthand. He also brought a young woman named Alexa into my office’s windowless closet on more than one occasion. While I can’t confirm what happened inside, it was unbecoming of a married Christian man.

  
  

• Pay disparities: White directors with fewer responsibilities were paid thousands more than I was.

The list goes on. These behaviors, left unchecked, were in direct conflict with the mission’s Christian values and the rules enforced on others.

Accountability is central to the Christian faith. Leadership has every right to enforce standards and terminate employees, but those standards must apply equally. At the Denver Rescue Mission, they never did.

For example, my African American assistant was fired after being caught with a small bag of marijuana. It was just becoming legal in the Colorado and this decision aligned with the mission’s policy, as residents who failed drug tests were also evicted a well.

However, the man who reported my assistant—a white employee named Josh Geppelt—admitted he got drunk at the same event and drove a vehicle with my assistant who had the weed!

Not only did he drive my assistant home while intoxicated, but he faced no consequences and was later promoted to Vice President. I asked Steve how, according to our own rules, was Josh anymore right than my assistant to which he said, "drinking is legal and he (Josh) didn't get caught."

Similarly, Greta, the PR Director, admitted to smoking marijuana with interns at a concert at a place outside of Denver called Red Rocks. Yet, nothing happened to her.

This pattern of unequal treatment disproportionately affected African Americans as well as the homeless families who we housed at The Crossing.

Their animosity wasn’t just professional—it was personal. In their eyes, I had forced them to follow rules they wrote for others but exempted themselves from. To them, I wasn’t a brother in Christ; I was the Black man who dared to hold them accountable.

Humiliating white Christian leaders, especially those in power, can be perilous—metaphorically and sometimes literally. This mindset often infiltrates evangelical leadership, where African Americans are not seen as equals, despite the gospel being foundationally based on the equality of all.

After my termination, I was hurt.

I wondered why I wasn’t shown the same mercy I had extended to them by withdrawing my EEOC complaint which I was sure to win. I mean, I have Brad, Steve, and Linda's voice on sound files.

This fails to mention hundred of other pieces of evidence which, and being at the director's level, I had access to.

In order to get me to withdraw the complaint, Brad and Linda offered to fire Steve for all of his racial assaults against me. I didn’t follow through with the complaint, even though I could have.

For me, truth wasn’t for sale.

Many Black employees were angry that I didn’t publicly expose the mission’s hypocrisy. They were frustrated that I refused a $125,000 settlement. Admittedly, there were moments when I regretted not taking the money after I left.

Instead of receiving $125,000 to resign, and the mission admits no wrong doing, I ended up with severance pay of $15,000 but I had to remain silent for a time on what had happened.

The statute of limitations for legal action has long passed, and I firmly believe my termination was justified. I value accountability, even when it costs me. However, the standards at the Denver Rescue Mission were never applied equally.

In the end, God used my refusal to compromise the truth to bring some justice. Steve was demoted, losing responsibility over the department with the most African American employees.

His replacement, Hugh Burns, was a fair and trustworthy leader. As painful as my termination was, it affirmed a powerful truth: God’s justice prevails, even when delivered through flawed and unjust people.

Scripture reminds us, “Judge not, lest you be judged. For the same measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7:1-2).

I stayed at the Denver Rescue Mission too long, but even in my disobedience, God worked for the good of His people. Through it all, I’ve learned to trust Him, hold others accountable, and embrace accountability myself—even when it hurts.

Header Image Courtesy of Anthony Chiado @ Unsplash

Japanese Artwork Courtesy of the University of Missouri