They Were Warned

In May 2026, Daniel Savala pleaded guilty to continuous trafficking of persons and was sentenced to 30 years in prison without the possibility of parole.

That sentence brought legal accountability for serious crimes. But it doesn't resolve every question raised by this story.

In some ways, it leaves the Church with an even more important one:

Could stronger accountability structures have recognized the danger sooner and reduced the opportunity for further harm?

I don't ask that question simply to assign blame. I'm interested in something larger—what churches, denominations, and ministry organizations can learn from what happened and whether our existing systems are equipped to respond when spiritual influence doesn't fit neatly within an organizational chart.

Because Savala's story didn't begin when the Chi Alpha controversy became public in 2023.

Years earlier, concerns had already been raised.

In March 2018, a former Chi Alpha student leader contacted national Chi Alpha leadership regarding Savala. The email identified him by name, discussed his previous conviction and sex-offender status, raised concerns about his relationships with Chi Alpha leaders, and specifically expressed concern for the safety of students.

National Chi Alpha Director E. Scott Martin responded in June 2018. His response shows that Assemblies of God legal counsel had been consulted and that inquiries had been made. It would therefore be inaccurate to suggest that the concerns were simply received and ignored.

But Martin's response also contains two statements that reveal an important tension.

He explained that Savala had no official capacity with the Assemblies of God or Chi Alpha.

At the same time, he acknowledged that Savala “has had influence in the lives of some Chi Alpha leaders.”

That distinction may be one of the most important parts of this entire story.

Savala didn't need credentials to have influence.

He didn't need an official ministry position to become a mentor.

He didn't need to appear on an organizational chart for people to view him as a spiritual authority.

His influence was relational, while much of the available accountability structure was organizational.

And that raises a question every church and ministry should consider:

What happens when someone's spiritual influence becomes greater than the accountability surrounding them?

The concerns didn't remain solely with Chi Alpha leadership.

Correspondence from June 2018 shows that the matter reached the office of Assemblies of God General Superintendent Doug Clay. Then-General Secretary Donna Barrett wrote that Clay had read the email and forwarded it to her for a response.

Barrett expressed concern, explained the jurisdictional limitations of the national office, confirmed that Savala wasn't a credentialed Assemblies of God minister, identified credentialed ministers connected to the concerns, and notified appropriate district leadership.

Those details matter because they make this conversation more complicated than simply asking whether anyone knew or whether anyone responded.

Officials did respond.

Legal counsel was consulted.

District leadership was notified.

Inquiries were made.

So perhaps the better question is not:

“Did the Assemblies of God know?”

The available correspondence shows that concerns reached both Chi Alpha and national AG leadership.

The more useful question may be:

“What could the system actually do with what it knew?”

The Assemblies of God operates as a cooperative fellowship in which local churches maintain considerable autonomy and districts carry significant responsibility for ministerial oversight and credentialing. There are legitimate reasons for that structure, and autonomy itself isn't necessarily the problem.

The challenge arises when spiritual authority exists outside the boundaries through which organizational accountability normally operates.

Savala wasn't credentialed.

He wasn't officially part of Chi Alpha.

Yet national Chi Alpha leadership acknowledged that he had influence among some Chi Alpha leaders.

That's an accountability gap worth examining.

And it isn't exclusively an Assemblies of God issue.

Churches everywhere have people who exercise meaningful spiritual influence without holding formal positions—mentors, volunteers, small-group leaders, counselors, ministry friends, former pastors, traveling ministers, donors, and trusted spiritual advisers.

Most serve faithfully and honorably.

But our accountability systems shouldn't be designed only for situations where everyone does.

If someone is regularly discipling, mentoring, counseling, teaching, or exercising significant spiritual influence over others, who is responsible for ensuring appropriate boundaries and accountability?

And if the person responsible for addressing a concern doesn't act—or doesn't have the authority to act—where does the concerned person go next?

Those questions become even more important because the warnings did not end with the initial 2018 correspondence.

Another email was sent to national leadership in December 2019. That email included an allegation concerning Savala's possible attendance at a Chi Alpha leadership event. The email itself does not independently establish that the allegation was true, and it would be inappropriate to present it as established fact without additional evidence.

What the correspondence does establish is that concerns were raised again.

That leads to another question worth considering:

At what point should repeated concerns trigger a different level of review?

Perhaps there should be a threshold at which a matter moves beyond the normal chain of command and receives independent examination—not because an allegation has already been proven, but because determining whether it is credible requires greater distance from the relationships involved.

Interestingly, the Assemblies of God's own leadership principles offer helpful language for thinking about this issue. Its leadership position paper states that accountability is essential to effective governance and describes ministry in ways that recognize function in addition to formal position.

That raises what may be the central principle in this conversation:

No one should possess more spiritual authority than accountability.

If spiritual leadership can exist through function and influence rather than title alone, shouldn't meaningful accountability follow that influence?

That doesn't mean denominations should control every relationship inside every local church. Nor does it mean an accusation should be treated as proof of wrongdoing.

Evidence matters.

Due process matters.

Fairness matters.

The rights of the accused matter.

And protecting vulnerable people matters.

Those principles don't have to compete with one another.

Perhaps the solution isn't simply greater centralized control. A better approach may be establishing clearer minimum standards for safeguarding and accountability across affiliated churches and ministries.

If someone regularly exercises substantial spiritual influence, there could be defined expectations regarding screening, boundaries, reporting, and oversight regardless of whether that individual holds formal credentials.

There also needs to be somewhere else to go when the normal reporting process reaches a dead end.

If a serious concern involves a close friend, mentor, supervisor, or influential leader, conflicts of interest should be recognized. Credible allegations may need an escalation process outside the immediate chain of command. Whistleblowers should have appropriate protection from retaliation, and allegations suggesting broader institutional failures may warrant independent review.

None of that necessarily requires eliminating local-church autonomy.

It simply asks whether meaningful safeguarding should be among the minimum expectations shared by churches and ministries that voluntarily associate with a larger fellowship.

The ongoing civil litigation surrounding Chi Alpha adds another dimension to the conversation.

The litigation has included disputes concerning discovery and depositions, including efforts related to the deposition of General Superintendent Doug Clay. Organizations have legitimate legal rights to challenge discovery requests, seek protective orders, and defend themselves in court. Exercising those rights should not automatically be characterized as obstruction or evidence of wrongdoing.

But Christian organizations may also have to wrestle with a question that extends beyond legal strategy.

A lawyer may appropriately ask:

“What is the organization legally required to disclose?”

Christian leadership may also need to ask:

“What response best demonstrates truth, transparency, integrity, and care for vulnerable people?”

Those aren't necessarily opposing questions, but neither are they always identical.

Maybe that's another lesson churches can take from situations like this: legal responsibility establishes an important standard, but Christian leadership should also be concerned with moral and spiritual responsibility.

And when serious failures occur, perhaps one of the most valuable things an organization can do is clearly explain what it has learned.

Not simply:

“We take these matters seriously.”

But:

What failed?

What changed?

Where can someone report a concern today?

Who receives that report?

Who reviews it?

What happens when the person involved isn't credentialed?

What happens when the concern involves someone with close relationships to leadership?

And where can someone go if the first level of accountability fails?

Those are practical questions, but they're also deeply biblical ones.

Scripture consistently connects spiritual leadership with character, responsibility, and accountability. Greater spiritual influence should carry greater responsibility—not less.

That's why I believe this conversation ultimately needs to move beyond Daniel Savala, Chi Alpha, or even the Assemblies of God.

The question isn't simply whether one denomination's structure failed in one situation.

The question every church and ministry should be asking is:

“Where could this happen among us?”

Where are the informal relationships that carry significant spiritual authority?

Who provides accountability for those relationships?

Do people know where to report concerns?

Can those concerns move beyond the immediate leadership structure when necessary?

And are our systems designed around the reality that spiritual influence doesn't always come with credentials?

The correspondence surrounding this case changes the nature of the conversation. We know warnings were sent. We know national Chi Alpha leadership received concerns. We know AG legal counsel was consulted. We know concerns reached the General Superintendent's office. And we know officials took responsive actions.

So asking simply “Who knew?” may no longer be enough.

Perhaps the more constructive questions are:

What did the system do with what it knew?

Was the system equipped to respond to the kind of influence that actually existed?

And most importantly:

Has enough changed to close the gap?

This doesn't have to become another conversation divided between those who want to defend the Church and those who want to criticize it.

There is another option.

We can learn from it.

We can strengthen our structures.

We can protect people.

And we can recognize that accountability isn't an enemy of healthy ministry. It is one of the things that helps keep ministry healthy.

Maybe every church, denomination, and ministry fellowship should be able to answer one simple question:

If someone possesses significant spiritual influence within our community, and the normal accountability process fails, where does the vulnerable person go next?

If the answer isn't immediately clear, perhaps that's where the work needs to begin.

Let’s chat. Leave me a comment below—I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts.