I had an interesting conversation over the weekend. Someone asked me if I had become a cessationist. That's an interesting question... the more I think about it, I guess it depends on how you define "cessationist."
I suppose a "true cessationist" believes that the miraculous gifts which were in operation in the early church are no longer given today. They have ceased. If that is the case, I don't qualify...
Healing is deal-breaker for me on that one. I still believe that God can heal people. I don't believe that He absolutely must heal them if we meticulously follow a faith formula (that's a Word of Faith thing), but I do believe that miraculous healing can still take place. A true cessationist would probably deny that.
But the issue that prompted this conversation was tongues. I was talking to some people who, as far as I know, have never spoken in tongues themselves... but they are open to the possibility of it being "real" because they know & respect a few people who do.
I've been thinking about that. I know & respect some people who have had powerful experiences in Hinduism, the new-age, and even Islam. I've listened to their stories. I don't think they're making it up... they are sincere. But even though I believe that they experienced something, I do not believe that it is what they THINK they experienced. And honestly, I feel the same way now about some of my charismatic and Pentecostal friends who speak in tongues. I believe that they are sincere... but I don't believe that tongues (at least not the way it is practiced in the churches I used to attend) are real.
So does that make me a cessationist, at least on the issue of tongues? Well... not really. I don't believe that the "tongues" I witnessed in my charismatic/Pentecostal churches were even remotely close to the tongues that are described in the Bible... so in that sense, I cannot say that those "tongues" have ceased because I don't think they ever began in the first place.
So what about the genuine article, the way it happened in the book of Acts? Could that still happen today?
I suppose it could.
I also suppose God could part Tampa Bay so I didn't have to wait in traffic on the Howard Frankland Bridge...
Showing posts with label extremes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label extremes. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Seed time?
I've been wondering about this today.
We have one minister who has admitted to "seeding" his meetings -- putting stuff in place naturally so that it would appear supernatural. The idea behind it really just a variation on a 'classic' Word of Faith teaching: if it happens, people will believe it... and if people will believe it, it will happen. So... the rationale for "seeding" the meetings is that when people saw the gems, they'd think God put them there. Their faith would be built up... and then gems would actually appear.
That's the rationale.
In other circles, they call it "priming the pump." It's the same reason why ministers have someone share a testimony or call out a few "lightning rod" people and pray for them in front of the whole congregation... they want to demonstrate that something is happening, because if people will expect something to happen, it is more likely that it will.
But something specific about "seeding" still bothers me...
Consider this: if the idea of "seeding" could enter the mind of a minister who knows that he will be under scrutiny, couldn't it also occur to someone in the congregation? I know that there were faked healings in many of the churches where healing crusades took place. The same thing that motivates a person to fake a healing could motivate a person to fake any of these other things. So... someone brings a handful of little 'gem chips' with them to the service. Maybe they just "seed" them for themselves to find... or maybe they spread it around...
I vaguely remember an episode of The Brady Bunch that does a good job of illustrating this idea. One of the boys--I'm pretty sure it was the youngest one--wanted to "stretch" himself out so he could get taller. He measures his height against a wall and marks it there. Then he goes and literally "hangs out" on the swingset all day. During the course of the day, three well-meaning family members secretly move the mark down by about half an inch each. So at the end of the day, when he measures himself again, it looks like he has grown a staggering 1.5 inches! Then, one by one, the family members admit to what they have done. There's been no growth afterall.
The moral of the story: if you want to measure your growth, don't measure yourself by something that is so easily moved :)
But back to the "seeding" issue.
So... the minister throws out a few "seed" gemstones. Then another person spreads a few around. Then another... Each of these individuals notice that there are stones present in the meeting which they themselves could not have planted... therefore, it's a miracle after all! Their seed multiplied! Not only is the whole thing validated, but they can feel justified in that they obeyed God and He multiplied the seed sown.
If EVERYONE who "seeded" stuff in these meetings came clean--if they were all 100% honest--would we be forced to conclude, as the Brady's did, that nothing had really happened after all?
I don't have anything personally against the Smiths. And if people really want to comb through carpets for crystal chips, that's their business. Personally, I do not believe that we should be looking for this sort of stuff... but is God capable of doing it? Of course He is. I just tend to think that He does things for a reason, and I've yet to hear of any good reason for this. It certainly isn't a good idea to use this as a measure of your spirituality.... that's a mark that is far too easily moved.
We have one minister who has admitted to "seeding" his meetings -- putting stuff in place naturally so that it would appear supernatural. The idea behind it really just a variation on a 'classic' Word of Faith teaching: if it happens, people will believe it... and if people will believe it, it will happen. So... the rationale for "seeding" the meetings is that when people saw the gems, they'd think God put them there. Their faith would be built up... and then gems would actually appear.
That's the rationale.
In other circles, they call it "priming the pump." It's the same reason why ministers have someone share a testimony or call out a few "lightning rod" people and pray for them in front of the whole congregation... they want to demonstrate that something is happening, because if people will expect something to happen, it is more likely that it will.
But something specific about "seeding" still bothers me...
Consider this: if the idea of "seeding" could enter the mind of a minister who knows that he will be under scrutiny, couldn't it also occur to someone in the congregation? I know that there were faked healings in many of the churches where healing crusades took place. The same thing that motivates a person to fake a healing could motivate a person to fake any of these other things. So... someone brings a handful of little 'gem chips' with them to the service. Maybe they just "seed" them for themselves to find... or maybe they spread it around...
I vaguely remember an episode of The Brady Bunch that does a good job of illustrating this idea. One of the boys--I'm pretty sure it was the youngest one--wanted to "stretch" himself out so he could get taller. He measures his height against a wall and marks it there. Then he goes and literally "hangs out" on the swingset all day. During the course of the day, three well-meaning family members secretly move the mark down by about half an inch each. So at the end of the day, when he measures himself again, it looks like he has grown a staggering 1.5 inches! Then, one by one, the family members admit to what they have done. There's been no growth afterall.
The moral of the story: if you want to measure your growth, don't measure yourself by something that is so easily moved :)
But back to the "seeding" issue.
So... the minister throws out a few "seed" gemstones. Then another person spreads a few around. Then another... Each of these individuals notice that there are stones present in the meeting which they themselves could not have planted... therefore, it's a miracle after all! Their seed multiplied! Not only is the whole thing validated, but they can feel justified in that they obeyed God and He multiplied the seed sown.
If EVERYONE who "seeded" stuff in these meetings came clean--if they were all 100% honest--would we be forced to conclude, as the Brady's did, that nothing had really happened after all?
I don't have anything personally against the Smiths. And if people really want to comb through carpets for crystal chips, that's their business. Personally, I do not believe that we should be looking for this sort of stuff... but is God capable of doing it? Of course He is. I just tend to think that He does things for a reason, and I've yet to hear of any good reason for this. It certainly isn't a good idea to use this as a measure of your spirituality.... that's a mark that is far too easily moved.
Faux Faith
A little more than a week ago, I started hearing rumblings that Glenn Smith from Shem Ministries (aka Gemstones Ministries) had been caught "planting" stones in a recent meeting. I checked their website, only to discover that they had taken it down for "personal and technical reasons." Although there is still no official public statement from the Smiths at the time of this writing (or at least none that I am aware of), other information has been circulating... including an email from one of the pastors who was co-hosting the meetings where the questionable behavior was discovered.
My first response was definitely not shock -- I was around during the gold dust mess back in the 90s... (remember my souvenirs from the fringe?) I wanted to believe it back then--I had friends and leaders telling me all sorts of things about how God had worked in their lives through this and stranger things. But still... it never quite felt right... and even though I defended it at times, I wasn't truly surprised then either when its main proponent was exposed as a fraud. In that case, both the natural origin of the "gold dust" (being planted in her hair before services started) and the actual authenticity of the "gold dust" (which was craft store glitter) was exposed.
This case is a little different. The people who have called Glenn Smith to account over this apparently still believe that the gemstones are actually from God... but also believe that he was "seeding" them into the meetings and leading people to believe that God had put them there, not Glenn. In other words, what is being admitted is not outright fraud... but exaggeration. Some might even call it evangelistic license.
From where I stand today, the whole gold dust / gemstones / "orbs" of light / and anything else even remotely similar just don't appeal to me. I'm not even tempted to wonder if God is really doing that stuff. Even if He is involved... I'm not worried that I'm "missing something" there.
But this does bring up an uncomfortable issue for me: how do I tell the genuine from the false?
Some things are easy to explain naturally -- craftstore glitter, cheap cut stones that jewelers can purchase in bulk, lens flare and dust in a picture... but what about the testimonies of those who claim to have been touched by these things? Can it all be attributed to hypnosis / suggestion / or the placebo effect? I tend to think now that it can...
But then what about the less extreme stuff?
I've seen some very convincing faux finishes--paint jobs that make a cheap material appear to be a higher quality, much more expensive material. It's hard to tell the difference if you're just looking at it. But once you touch it you can feel the difference in the weight and the texture. It might have wood grain... but when you knock on it, it doesn't sound like wood. It might have a marble finish, but when you touch it, it isn't cold like marble.
So what's the test for separating faux faith from the real thing?
To be continued, I'm sure...
My first response was definitely not shock -- I was around during the gold dust mess back in the 90s... (remember my souvenirs from the fringe?) I wanted to believe it back then--I had friends and leaders telling me all sorts of things about how God had worked in their lives through this and stranger things. But still... it never quite felt right... and even though I defended it at times, I wasn't truly surprised then either when its main proponent was exposed as a fraud. In that case, both the natural origin of the "gold dust" (being planted in her hair before services started) and the actual authenticity of the "gold dust" (which was craft store glitter) was exposed.
This case is a little different. The people who have called Glenn Smith to account over this apparently still believe that the gemstones are actually from God... but also believe that he was "seeding" them into the meetings and leading people to believe that God had put them there, not Glenn. In other words, what is being admitted is not outright fraud... but exaggeration. Some might even call it evangelistic license.
From where I stand today, the whole gold dust / gemstones / "orbs" of light / and anything else even remotely similar just don't appeal to me. I'm not even tempted to wonder if God is really doing that stuff. Even if He is involved... I'm not worried that I'm "missing something" there.
But this does bring up an uncomfortable issue for me: how do I tell the genuine from the false?
Some things are easy to explain naturally -- craftstore glitter, cheap cut stones that jewelers can purchase in bulk, lens flare and dust in a picture... but what about the testimonies of those who claim to have been touched by these things? Can it all be attributed to hypnosis / suggestion / or the placebo effect? I tend to think now that it can...
But then what about the less extreme stuff?
I've seen some very convincing faux finishes--paint jobs that make a cheap material appear to be a higher quality, much more expensive material. It's hard to tell the difference if you're just looking at it. But once you touch it you can feel the difference in the weight and the texture. It might have wood grain... but when you knock on it, it doesn't sound like wood. It might have a marble finish, but when you touch it, it isn't cold like marble.
So what's the test for separating faux faith from the real thing?
To be continued, I'm sure...
Thursday, January 17, 2008
No Laughing Matter
So far on this site, I've dealt with what happened once I was in an unhealthy church, and how I ultimately got out of it... but in the last few days, I've been thinking back to how it all started for me. This link was posted in a forum, and that's what instigated this trip down memory lane:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SgByE0pX1M
It's a couple of clips from a meeting with Kenneth Hagin and Kenneth Copeland, two icons of the Word of Faith movement. That's the sort of thing that we used to consider "a really good meeting."
Of course, the video doesn't really do it justice. It is another thing entirely to be in a meeting where all this is happening. What looks ridiculous on tape can seem very plausible in person. My first taste of anything even remotely charismatic was back in the early 90s -- a "holy laughter" experience at a church not far from my college.
The charismatic stuff was new to me, but laughing was easy. I didn't have to be taught how to laugh. It wasn't something out of the ordinary in and of itself -- like speaking in tongues. Laughter is naturally contagious. It releases tension and makes you more comfortable. It's a generally positive thing.
Did you ever dare a friend to make you smile or laugh, and then try desperately to keep a straight face? It's hard. The harder you try, it seems, the harder you laugh when you finally let go...
In that first meeting, I tried very hard not to laugh... but I couldn't help it. I sat there as long as I could with everyone around me laughing. Many people were rolling on the floor and doing other ridiculous looking things that would have made me laugh even under normal circumstances. I was trying desperately to "stifle" my own laughter, hold it in, but I was doomed to fail!
By the time I finally let go and started laughing, it was truly overwhelming. When one of the leaders asked if they could pray for me, I could hardly even answer because I was laughing uncontrollably and trying to keep from falling out of my folding chair. To say that things were "emotionally charged" would be a tremendous understatement. When that leader laid hands on me, it felt like electricity... and I wound up on the floor. I must have looked nervous, because the leader told me, "It's OK, that's just the Holy Spirit. Soak it in." That leader stayed with me "soaking" me for a while, mostly repeating things like "More" and "Fill." So I learned to equate that sort of experience with "feeling God's presence."
The experience was real... I felt things and did things that were out of the ordinary for me. It actually happened. I did not make it up. I didn't do it because I was flakey or wanted attention. I didn't go to that first meeting with the intention of winding up on the floor. (In fact, I went to the first meeting looking for evidence that it was a cult...)
I've often wondered what really happened to me in that meeting (and subsequent meetings). My initial conclusion was that this HAD to be God. What else could it be?
This is another video, in two parts, that offers a different answer to that question:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Sq-YUdq1OI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DylNVUN_3I
Could it be that so much of what I used to attribute to the supernatural power of God was really just the power of suggestion?
To be continued...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SgByE0pX1M
It's a couple of clips from a meeting with Kenneth Hagin and Kenneth Copeland, two icons of the Word of Faith movement. That's the sort of thing that we used to consider "a really good meeting."
Of course, the video doesn't really do it justice. It is another thing entirely to be in a meeting where all this is happening. What looks ridiculous on tape can seem very plausible in person. My first taste of anything even remotely charismatic was back in the early 90s -- a "holy laughter" experience at a church not far from my college.
The charismatic stuff was new to me, but laughing was easy. I didn't have to be taught how to laugh. It wasn't something out of the ordinary in and of itself -- like speaking in tongues. Laughter is naturally contagious. It releases tension and makes you more comfortable. It's a generally positive thing.
Did you ever dare a friend to make you smile or laugh, and then try desperately to keep a straight face? It's hard. The harder you try, it seems, the harder you laugh when you finally let go...
In that first meeting, I tried very hard not to laugh... but I couldn't help it. I sat there as long as I could with everyone around me laughing. Many people were rolling on the floor and doing other ridiculous looking things that would have made me laugh even under normal circumstances. I was trying desperately to "stifle" my own laughter, hold it in, but I was doomed to fail!
By the time I finally let go and started laughing, it was truly overwhelming. When one of the leaders asked if they could pray for me, I could hardly even answer because I was laughing uncontrollably and trying to keep from falling out of my folding chair. To say that things were "emotionally charged" would be a tremendous understatement. When that leader laid hands on me, it felt like electricity... and I wound up on the floor. I must have looked nervous, because the leader told me, "It's OK, that's just the Holy Spirit. Soak it in." That leader stayed with me "soaking" me for a while, mostly repeating things like "More" and "Fill." So I learned to equate that sort of experience with "feeling God's presence."
The experience was real... I felt things and did things that were out of the ordinary for me. It actually happened. I did not make it up. I didn't do it because I was flakey or wanted attention. I didn't go to that first meeting with the intention of winding up on the floor. (In fact, I went to the first meeting looking for evidence that it was a cult...)
I've often wondered what really happened to me in that meeting (and subsequent meetings). My initial conclusion was that this HAD to be God. What else could it be?
This is another video, in two parts, that offers a different answer to that question:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Sq-YUdq1OI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DylNVUN_3I
Could it be that so much of what I used to attribute to the supernatural power of God was really just the power of suggestion?
To be continued...
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Souvenirs from the fringe
In the spirit of making a fresh start, I decided to spend this afternoon doing a little cleaning.
It started with my books -- I still had a bunch of books from my "fringe" days. I don't even know why I held on to them this long. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I figured I'd give them to one of my Pentecostal friends rather than just toss them...
Books are one thing. But my collection of souvenirs from the fringe gets even better. I didn't even know I still had this stuff until I opened a storage box that probably hadn't see daylight since I my last interstate move.
Among the more interesting items:
It felt good to get rid of that stuff. I don't need a trinket or a ministry to connect me to God anymore. I don't need to see signs and wonders. I'll always remember those times (although now I'm more likely to cringe than to smile when I do), but I'm never going back.
It started with my books -- I still had a bunch of books from my "fringe" days. I don't even know why I held on to them this long. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I figured I'd give them to one of my Pentecostal friends rather than just toss them...
Books are one thing. But my collection of souvenirs from the fringe gets even better. I didn't even know I still had this stuff until I opened a storage box that probably hadn't see daylight since I my last interstate move.
Among the more interesting items:
- Assorted "Prayer cloths" (little pieces of fabric that had been prayed over in some revival service somewhere)
- A couple of vials of annointing oil (one would even clip on your keychain, in case you needed that extra annointing on the go!)
- A little plastic tube of what appears to be water -- "holy water"? I don't even remember.
- A small white landscaping stone (it was part of an object lesson from a meeting I attended in the mid 90s)
- A gazillion program booklets and cassette tapes from conferences I've attended
- An impressive collection of handwritten "prophetic words" that were given to me
- The new members' orientation handbook from a church I left years ago.
- A little baggie with some "gold dust" (looks exactly like glitter, and that's probably exactly what it is) from another "revival" meeting back in the mid 90s
It felt good to get rid of that stuff. I don't need a trinket or a ministry to connect me to God anymore. I don't need to see signs and wonders. I'll always remember those times (although now I'm more likely to cringe than to smile when I do), but I'm never going back.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Just for kicks
Just for kicks I read some stuff from a "revival" discussion group today. I'm going to visit a friend of mine who is in revival this weekend, so I guess I wanted to do my homework, find out about the latest buzz, etc.
There's some scary stuff out there... and it is amazing how easily these folks get into arguments with one another. Most of the discussion involved people attacking eachother in spiritual-sounding language, while simultaneously speaking about the need to love other people in other threads.
That's a major red flag to me now when I'm looking at any organization. If the people involved, especially the leadership (self-proclaimed or otherwise), can't handle basic questions without getting defensive or resorting to "because I said so" (or in the case of churches/ministries, "because God told me so")... I back WAY off. People who get defensive or rude in response to honest questions... major red flag. It's just not worth the stress. People who can't get along within their own organization, but talk about a desire to unite with other organizations... red flag.
There's some scary stuff out there... and it is amazing how easily these folks get into arguments with one another. Most of the discussion involved people attacking eachother in spiritual-sounding language, while simultaneously speaking about the need to love other people in other threads.
That's a major red flag to me now when I'm looking at any organization. If the people involved, especially the leadership (self-proclaimed or otherwise), can't handle basic questions without getting defensive or resorting to "because I said so" (or in the case of churches/ministries, "because God told me so")... I back WAY off. People who get defensive or rude in response to honest questions... major red flag. It's just not worth the stress. People who can't get along within their own organization, but talk about a desire to unite with other organizations... red flag.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Bad things happen...
Why do bad things happen to good people?
That was the subject of today's message at church. It was really refreshing... no earth-shattering revelations, just some practical wisdom. Basically, bad stuff happens because choices have consequences--they could be our choices, they could be other people's choices. Bad stuff also happens because we live in a world where stuff happens. God promises us peace in Him, but many trials and sorrows in the world.
Those who believe in iron-clad 'divine protection' would answer that question in an entirely different way: Bad things happen to people who are outside of God's will. At first, this approach was attractive and seemed to make sense: God is all powerful. We're God's kids. God will protect His kids, as long as they stay close enough to Him and did what He said to do. When I was younger, it seemed to work pretty well. I was relatively healthy. Finances were steady. The family was stable. Life was good.
Well, life has a way of changing and throwing in a few curves. Those curves are difficult enough to handle on their own... but when you actually believe in guaranteed divine protection, it makes the hard times considerably harder. Not only are you dealing with a difficult circumstance, but you have the added weight of wondering what you did (or neglected to do) to bring this punishment on yourself... and the uneasy feeling that those around you are probably wondering where you went wrong too. An illness becomes a symptom of some deeper spiritual problem. A business failure also represents failure of your faith or a deficiency in your spiritual life. You can always respond to an altar call and have someone lay hands on you and declare the problem solved... but what if your situation is still unchanged afterwards?
One of the things that I love about my current church home is how open everyone is about their struggles--whether it be health or finances or jobs or family. We pray for eachother in small groups and get regular updates on how things are going. We're vulnerable with eachother... and it is only in that willingness to expose our individual weaknesses that we can discover the strength of fellowship and community.
People just aren't as willing to share when they believe that their struggles are a sign of some spiritual failure. They keep their struggles to themselves, and keep others far enough away so that they can't see what's really going on inside. It's actually quite sad. If you are reluctant to share when you yourself are struggling, you'll also be reluctant to share your experiences as an encouragement to someone else who is going through a tough time. You miss out on the support of your friends, and you miss out on the awesome opportunity God gives us to comfort one another with the comfort we ourselves have received.
This is probably one of the reasons why the community here is so much deeper and richer than it ever was for me in a pentecostal (especially "Word of Faith") setting. We build relationships when we share common struggles. We strengthen the ties when we bear eachothers burdens.
That was the subject of today's message at church. It was really refreshing... no earth-shattering revelations, just some practical wisdom. Basically, bad stuff happens because choices have consequences--they could be our choices, they could be other people's choices. Bad stuff also happens because we live in a world where stuff happens. God promises us peace in Him, but many trials and sorrows in the world.
Those who believe in iron-clad 'divine protection' would answer that question in an entirely different way: Bad things happen to people who are outside of God's will. At first, this approach was attractive and seemed to make sense: God is all powerful. We're God's kids. God will protect His kids, as long as they stay close enough to Him and did what He said to do. When I was younger, it seemed to work pretty well. I was relatively healthy. Finances were steady. The family was stable. Life was good.
Well, life has a way of changing and throwing in a few curves. Those curves are difficult enough to handle on their own... but when you actually believe in guaranteed divine protection, it makes the hard times considerably harder. Not only are you dealing with a difficult circumstance, but you have the added weight of wondering what you did (or neglected to do) to bring this punishment on yourself... and the uneasy feeling that those around you are probably wondering where you went wrong too. An illness becomes a symptom of some deeper spiritual problem. A business failure also represents failure of your faith or a deficiency in your spiritual life. You can always respond to an altar call and have someone lay hands on you and declare the problem solved... but what if your situation is still unchanged afterwards?
One of the things that I love about my current church home is how open everyone is about their struggles--whether it be health or finances or jobs or family. We pray for eachother in small groups and get regular updates on how things are going. We're vulnerable with eachother... and it is only in that willingness to expose our individual weaknesses that we can discover the strength of fellowship and community.
People just aren't as willing to share when they believe that their struggles are a sign of some spiritual failure. They keep their struggles to themselves, and keep others far enough away so that they can't see what's really going on inside. It's actually quite sad. If you are reluctant to share when you yourself are struggling, you'll also be reluctant to share your experiences as an encouragement to someone else who is going through a tough time. You miss out on the support of your friends, and you miss out on the awesome opportunity God gives us to comfort one another with the comfort we ourselves have received.
This is probably one of the reasons why the community here is so much deeper and richer than it ever was for me in a pentecostal (especially "Word of Faith") setting. We build relationships when we share common struggles. We strengthen the ties when we bear eachothers burdens.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Rethinking everything
There is one nice thing about being in an ultra-strict church: at least you know exactly what is expected of you... and you'll probably hear about it if you stray! Over the years, I've learned to adhere to a certain set of standards. They never felt overly restrictive--I just accepted them as the norm. It's easy to feel that way when you spend most of your time building friendships only with those who hold the same beliefs.
The problem is, everyone doesn't hold those beliefs. In fact, the majority of the Christian world doesn't.
So now I'm part of a considerably less restrictive church... but my pre-programmed knee-jerk reactions to certain otherwise "normal" things is still about as strong as it was before. It's not unusual for folks come to church in shorts and tank tops and other clothing that would have been considered completely inappropriate in my previous churches. It's not unusual for people to talk openly about their illnesses and the prescription medications that they are taking. In many pentecostal circles, that would have been met with a stern rebuke. (If your doctrine says that sickness is the result of sin or demonic attack in your life, then the appropriate response to illness is repentence, prayer and study -- not a doctor's visit.) Sometimes stuff like this still catches me off guard.
Secular music is no longer taboo, but it still seems strange for me to hang out with folks from my church and listen to secular music. I feel a twinge of... guilt. Like I'm doing something wrong. Alcohol was completely off limits in pentecostal churches - but here, moderation seems to be the rule. I had always been open to having a glass of champaigne or wine at a special family dinner or celebration... but it was rare and certainly not something I would have ever mentioned to a pastor. In some of my previous ministry-related jobs, a violation of these standards was grounds for immediate termination.
So all of this is still a little weird for me. It's not that I was completely unprepared: I expected (and even looked forward to) many of these differences. Yet, when I see these things which were taboo for me for so long, my knee-jerk reaction is still to kinda look down on them and judge it as "wrong." I wonder how long it will take for me to shake off those feelings...
Walking away from a church or organization is the easy part. Leaving behind old attitudes and mindsets... this could take a while...
The problem is, everyone doesn't hold those beliefs. In fact, the majority of the Christian world doesn't.
So now I'm part of a considerably less restrictive church... but my pre-programmed knee-jerk reactions to certain otherwise "normal" things is still about as strong as it was before. It's not unusual for folks come to church in shorts and tank tops and other clothing that would have been considered completely inappropriate in my previous churches. It's not unusual for people to talk openly about their illnesses and the prescription medications that they are taking. In many pentecostal circles, that would have been met with a stern rebuke. (If your doctrine says that sickness is the result of sin or demonic attack in your life, then the appropriate response to illness is repentence, prayer and study -- not a doctor's visit.) Sometimes stuff like this still catches me off guard.
Secular music is no longer taboo, but it still seems strange for me to hang out with folks from my church and listen to secular music. I feel a twinge of... guilt. Like I'm doing something wrong. Alcohol was completely off limits in pentecostal churches - but here, moderation seems to be the rule. I had always been open to having a glass of champaigne or wine at a special family dinner or celebration... but it was rare and certainly not something I would have ever mentioned to a pastor. In some of my previous ministry-related jobs, a violation of these standards was grounds for immediate termination.
So all of this is still a little weird for me. It's not that I was completely unprepared: I expected (and even looked forward to) many of these differences. Yet, when I see these things which were taboo for me for so long, my knee-jerk reaction is still to kinda look down on them and judge it as "wrong." I wonder how long it will take for me to shake off those feelings...
Walking away from a church or organization is the easy part. Leaving behind old attitudes and mindsets... this could take a while...
Monday, March 12, 2007
The worship experience
The first time I attended a charismatic church some 15+ years ago, the thing I liked the most was the praise & worship. It was--well--alive! I could understand it and enjoy it. I could close my eyes, raise my hands if I wanted to, and not worry about what anyone else in the room was doing. For me, that was the very definition of freedom. I loved the worship, and even when I was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with other aspects of Pentecostalism, it was the worship that kept me coming back.
I guess I ought to make a distinction between the worship and the music. The worship was great. The music was OK. The musicians were (by and large) not professionals, just folks who loved God and (kinda) knew how to play a few chords. They hit wrong notes sometimes. They tripped over the words. They couldn't always stay on pitch and the harmonies were often less than harmonious. The songs themselves were simple... and looking back, some of them were just kinda silly or even downright embarrassing.
The music has come a long way since the 80s. Most churches today have paid worship leaders who are accomplished musicians. Larger churches even pay other members of the band. If you visit a contemporary-style American "mega church" today, you're guaranteed a quality show complete with all the staging, lighting and multimedia that you'd find at a modest concert.
In more recent years, I wound up attending a pentecostal mega church. It was a very good church--no scandals, no major conflicts or controversies, respected in the community, etc. Everything they did was very high quality, including the music. It should have been everything I wanted and more, but before long I found myself wishing I could go back to the worship I had known in the early 90s. Something was missing. I couldn't pinpoint what it was, but I was certain that I'd know it when I found it.
I started visiting other churches. I went to special services and conferences. I even enrolled in a worship school! I found a place where the services were nearly identical to the style and atmosphere I had loved so much in the 90s... but even though I had found exactly what I was looking for, it was a short lived and empty victory. Maybe time had skewed my memories of "the good old days." Maybe I had grown older and less open-minded. I just couldn't stomach some of the stuff I was hearing. It was easy to avoid asking the tough questions when I was in a less "extreme" pentecostal church, but now I was being confronted with large doses of things I had never been entirely comfortable with in the first place.
I guess I ought to make a distinction between the worship and the music. The worship was great. The music was OK. The musicians were (by and large) not professionals, just folks who loved God and (kinda) knew how to play a few chords. They hit wrong notes sometimes. They tripped over the words. They couldn't always stay on pitch and the harmonies were often less than harmonious. The songs themselves were simple... and looking back, some of them were just kinda silly or even downright embarrassing.
The music has come a long way since the 80s. Most churches today have paid worship leaders who are accomplished musicians. Larger churches even pay other members of the band. If you visit a contemporary-style American "mega church" today, you're guaranteed a quality show complete with all the staging, lighting and multimedia that you'd find at a modest concert.
In more recent years, I wound up attending a pentecostal mega church. It was a very good church--no scandals, no major conflicts or controversies, respected in the community, etc. Everything they did was very high quality, including the music. It should have been everything I wanted and more, but before long I found myself wishing I could go back to the worship I had known in the early 90s. Something was missing. I couldn't pinpoint what it was, but I was certain that I'd know it when I found it.
I started visiting other churches. I went to special services and conferences. I even enrolled in a worship school! I found a place where the services were nearly identical to the style and atmosphere I had loved so much in the 90s... but even though I had found exactly what I was looking for, it was a short lived and empty victory. Maybe time had skewed my memories of "the good old days." Maybe I had grown older and less open-minded. I just couldn't stomach some of the stuff I was hearing. It was easy to avoid asking the tough questions when I was in a less "extreme" pentecostal church, but now I was being confronted with large doses of things I had never been entirely comfortable with in the first place.
Monday, March 5, 2007
Evangelistic license
Sometimes, it's so easy for things to just roll off my back. They don't bother me. I never give it a second thought. Other times... I can't seem to let go. I replay the situation over and over in my head. I get angry.
An advertisement for a Pentecostal "crusade" hit one of those hot buttons for me recently.
I'm used to seeing a lot of "pull-on-your-heartstrings" stuff, so much so that maybe I dismiss it too easily. It doesn't bother me so much when ministers are promoted as larger than life heroes who do everything from build orphanages to raise the dead. I'm not phased by emotional clips and soundbites from past services (even if I have good reason to believe that the lady who got up out of the wheelchair at the fall 2002 conference was the same one who got up out of the wheelchair in another minister's spring 2003 conference and who knows how many other places). But this one promotional video in particular just made my blood boil. It hit too close to home.
I'm originally from the New York City area. Images of 9/11 are permanently etched in my mind. The fact that some people have tried to profit financially from the losses of others is just about the worst kind of ugly I can imagine. The fact that some of these people are ministers is downright disgusting--and I would feel the same way no matter what "flavor" of minister they were.
The offending promo video was produced sometime last summer. It featured clips of the minister at a conference in NYC in the 90s. He was warning them to get right with God, what if a missile were to hit Manhattan? Images of the 9/11 attacks flashed across the screen. The implication was that this minister had predicted the 9/11 terrorist attacks. That's outrageous enough in and of itself. I've been around ministry long enough to know that most itinerants preach the same basic message wherever they go. I wonder how many other cities had been warned of impending attacks that never happened? Even a stopped watch is right twice a day.
OK, so maybe that could be chalked up to "Evangelistic license." After all, he did say it, and something did happen, and perhaps his staff was just a bit too zealous in promoting him.
But what they were promoting was a new series of meetings, and they were seeking financial support to make them possible. They used images of people dying in NYC to raise money for their ministry.
I felt like screaming: If you're such a good minister, if you have such an "in" with God, why didn't you intercede for the city and make it stop? If you believe that your prayers are answered, what the heck were you praying for??
It was horrible the first time I saw it months and months ago, it was still horrible when I saw it again just recently. It makes me a little sick just thinking about it.
It also makes me wonder about what I believe and what I used to believe. What do I do with all that supernatural stuff? Is it really supernatural at all? Is it just luck? Is it fake? I think I've seen some genuine miracles, but I know for sure that I've seen a lot of fluff and attention seeking and outright fakes. I wanted to believe in divine protection, but I didn't want to be in a church where every time I got sick, had to fix my car, or had something happen in my family, people were wondering what sin I had committed to get outside of God's favor.
I've heard a lot of so-called "Words from God" or prophetic words... and often wondered how much of that was God and how much was an expression of that person's desires. I've seen them horribly misused. If your pastor has a "word" and you disagree with it, you're either disagreeing with God or challenging the pastor's relationship with God. If you say nothing, but don't do what the "word" directs, you're rebelling against authority. That's a terrible spot to be in.
What if I wasn't from NYC? What if 9/11 was just an impersonal tragedy to me? Would I be cheering that minister on, contributing to his crusades?
For now, I guess I just have to put this whole mess on the back burner.
An advertisement for a Pentecostal "crusade" hit one of those hot buttons for me recently.
I'm used to seeing a lot of "pull-on-your-heartstrings" stuff, so much so that maybe I dismiss it too easily. It doesn't bother me so much when ministers are promoted as larger than life heroes who do everything from build orphanages to raise the dead. I'm not phased by emotional clips and soundbites from past services (even if I have good reason to believe that the lady who got up out of the wheelchair at the fall 2002 conference was the same one who got up out of the wheelchair in another minister's spring 2003 conference and who knows how many other places). But this one promotional video in particular just made my blood boil. It hit too close to home.
I'm originally from the New York City area. Images of 9/11 are permanently etched in my mind. The fact that some people have tried to profit financially from the losses of others is just about the worst kind of ugly I can imagine. The fact that some of these people are ministers is downright disgusting--and I would feel the same way no matter what "flavor" of minister they were.
The offending promo video was produced sometime last summer. It featured clips of the minister at a conference in NYC in the 90s. He was warning them to get right with God, what if a missile were to hit Manhattan? Images of the 9/11 attacks flashed across the screen. The implication was that this minister had predicted the 9/11 terrorist attacks. That's outrageous enough in and of itself. I've been around ministry long enough to know that most itinerants preach the same basic message wherever they go. I wonder how many other cities had been warned of impending attacks that never happened? Even a stopped watch is right twice a day.
OK, so maybe that could be chalked up to "Evangelistic license." After all, he did say it, and something did happen, and perhaps his staff was just a bit too zealous in promoting him.
But what they were promoting was a new series of meetings, and they were seeking financial support to make them possible. They used images of people dying in NYC to raise money for their ministry.
I felt like screaming: If you're such a good minister, if you have such an "in" with God, why didn't you intercede for the city and make it stop? If you believe that your prayers are answered, what the heck were you praying for??
It was horrible the first time I saw it months and months ago, it was still horrible when I saw it again just recently. It makes me a little sick just thinking about it.
It also makes me wonder about what I believe and what I used to believe. What do I do with all that supernatural stuff? Is it really supernatural at all? Is it just luck? Is it fake? I think I've seen some genuine miracles, but I know for sure that I've seen a lot of fluff and attention seeking and outright fakes. I wanted to believe in divine protection, but I didn't want to be in a church where every time I got sick, had to fix my car, or had something happen in my family, people were wondering what sin I had committed to get outside of God's favor.
I've heard a lot of so-called "Words from God" or prophetic words... and often wondered how much of that was God and how much was an expression of that person's desires. I've seen them horribly misused. If your pastor has a "word" and you disagree with it, you're either disagreeing with God or challenging the pastor's relationship with God. If you say nothing, but don't do what the "word" directs, you're rebelling against authority. That's a terrible spot to be in.
What if I wasn't from NYC? What if 9/11 was just an impersonal tragedy to me? Would I be cheering that minister on, contributing to his crusades?
For now, I guess I just have to put this whole mess on the back burner.
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