Stumbling block: a little about what happened to me

Some years ago, I was thrown out of a church because the pastor falsely accused me of things and wouldn’t allow me to even say I hadn’t done what he accused me of. He told me that if he said I did it, he was a Man of God, and God had obviously talked to him about me and revealed the wickedness in my heart. He also preached that I would walk out of church the night he kicked me out and immediately go and cut my hair and wear pants and makeup. I felt like I was betraying him by NOT doing those things, proving that he was a false prophet. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I believed THE Truth, so I didn’t cut my hair or put on pants. I simply found another Oneness church and tried to act like nothing had happened.

The new pastor told me to just forget about what had happened and move on. But I couldn’t. What happened had created a lot of questions and doubts in my mind, things that I needed to work through and discuss. I needed time to heal. They wanted to act like there was nothing to heal, and that hurt worse.

I always felt condemned for not doing crazy things in church. After being kicked out, something disconnected. I went to church, and would shake “under the power of God.” I’d never done that before. People would tell me how close I must be to God. I didn’t feel close to God. I’d been kicked out of a church, but they didn’t know that, so I felt like a hypocrite. I also knew the shaking wasn’t God, it was me wrestling hard to reconcile what I believed was The Truth with what I had seen, heard, and experienced that blared that it wasn’t. There was such a deep grief and so much condemnation associated with praying, fasting, and studying the Bible… and especially with worship. The new church was very pushy about how much I should worship and exactly how we should and shouldn’t worship. That didn’t help me at all, because so much of what he told us we needed to do seemed unnatural or just plain weird or wrong to me.

It took me years to untangle what had happened in the church I was kicked out of. I had been happy in a way, and spoke in tongues often and danced a lot. When I was kicked out, even though I went to a different Oneness Pentecostal church (where the pastor assured me I was fine), things just weren’t the same. I doubted pretty much everything I was feeling, because the pastor who kicked me out said I was backslid and terribly wrong. If that were true (and of course it must be- he was a Holy Ghost filled preacher) then what I had felt, and the speaking in tongues and the worship I was doing must be all wrong, too. How could sweet and bitter water come from the same source, after all? I almost ‘got past that’ but then with all the show and people really hurting people in the altar of the new church, I started re-looking some things.

At the same time, I went through a time when every time I tried to pray, I’d pretty much immediately fall into heart wrenching grief and start sobbing and speaking in tongues. I knew that wasn’t right. There is joy in the Holy Ghost, and what was happening couldn’t have been considered intercession. I’d focus on God and say “I love you” or think of a recent service or have a happy thought that I’d be able to stay in that church for the rest of my life… and suddenly start bawling, when I hadn’t been sad before that word of prayer or that thought of thankfulness! A week of that would have been one thing, but that went on for a month or more. And I couldn’t seem to pray at all at church. By the end of that time, I knew something was terribly wrong, but I didn’t know what (or wouldn’t admit it) for a few more years.

For the last few years, there have been many false accusations and labels placed on people in my former church. There was a lot of spying and gossip.

The pastor bragged about the spying from the platform, and encouraged people to tell him if they even thought something MIGHT be wrong with someone else. He said if they didn’t tell him, they’d have blood on their hands. So people, from the oldest to elementary school kids, would go in alone or in groups to say they thought they saw someone do this or that. The person they told on would then be called in and chewed out. They were not asked if they did it, or if they denied it they’d be told they were lying. There was no escaping the hurtful words.

I’ve sat in my former pastor’s office sobbing uncontrollably many times as he, my ‘shepherd,’ my ‘man of God,’ my ‘pastor’ would tell me that I didn’t deserve anything but hell, that I was worthless, that I could leave like the other “garbage” (‘backsliders’ were called “garbage” and the churches they went to were called “trash cans”).

In all of this, even when I was sobbing, even when I tried to say something to defend myself, he would continue to pound on me with his words. Where is the mercy or the compassion in that?

If any pastors or leaders read this, please consider. I didn’t leave a Oneness church because I didn’t believe the doctrine. I left because the church stopped believing in me. I got to a point where if I’d stayed I would have stopped believing in God, because the God they preached and showed through their own lives was an angry, hateful, distorted god, not a God of love and mercy.

Mt 18:1 At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? 2And Jesus called a little child unto him… 6But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea. 7Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!

1 Jn 4:7 Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 8He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.

I’m not bitter. But some things need to be heard. For too long in churches like the one I left, members didn’t have a voice. It’s time someone listened.

Church Gimmicks

I had a dream this morning that I was attending church on Easter. It isn’t my church or one I’ve ever been in, but in the dream I’d been there before, because I knew the music was going to be different.

Before church I heard people talking about how they had come because the candy was better at this church. As the music started, people started crying and laying down on the floor. I wasn’t scared, but I was disgusted. The music was awful. The second song was supposed to be special. It was heavy rock. I moved so that I wasn’t in front of the speakers. The third song started, and was announced to also have a special instrument involved… a chain saw. At the same time, people were coming to the front, crying and praying and having hands laid on them, while altar workers stood with clickers, counting the number of people ‘saved’ or who spoke in tongues, I’m not sure which. One was from my first church, and the altar worker and a friend of hers were fighting over whether she should be counted.

The friend walked past me as she went back to her seat. She recognized me and saw my pants (not allowed in her religion). She told me she’d just had a sobbing moment, because she wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas with me because I was obviously lost, wearing pants. We hadn’t had plans; we hadn’t spoken for ten years!

And then I noticed what the congregation was singing: Your love like a river flows through me.

Gimmicks. Candy, special songs, special instruments, encouraging people to worship more ahead of time, counting responses… all are gimmicks. They can be used, within reason, to encourage people to come to a church (or to any other sales event) but they aren’t about God. They’re marketing techniques. But what disturbed me most was not the gimmicks in the dream (not even the chain saw music) or the rejection of my former friend, but the fact that in the middle of all the gimmicks, the fight, and the rejection, the song being sung repeated the words “Your love like a river flows through me.” That’s what haunted me as I woke up. The hypocrisy.

Dresses, Dresses, Dresses

Do dresses make you holy???  After I was declared to have the Holy Ghost, I did not receive any inspiration from the Holy Ghost to begin wearing dresses.  In fact, being a teenager when I arrived at a United Pentecostal church, my wardrobe consisted mainly of jeans, shorts, and mini dresses.  It was the spring time of the year when I began going to this church and the following summer, I went on vacation with my family wearing pants, makeup, and bikinis.  Funny thing is I don’t remember having any feelings that this was wrong or that I was betraying the Lord in any way.

My main memory of beginning to wear only dresses came from my concern that I could possibly be seen by someone from my church with the wrong clothes on.  I also remember my mom, who was not a fan of my new church experience, questioning me “so you’re not going to wear all those clothes anymore?”  This new way of dressing had to become my passion because I needed a whole new wardrobe!  And hey, dresses were going to make me holy, right?

At first, I was at the mercy of one of the seamstresses in the church who had a penchant for heavy double knits.  I considered myself to be somewhat of a fashionista so before long I purchased a sewing machine so I could make my own dresses.  This was the early ‘70’s when the only dresses you could buy were short and unacceptable for making me holy.  Thankfully, a few years later hem lines dropped and I could buy some of my clothes.  Until then, you found me spending hours and hours making new dresses.  Dresses are serious business in my UPC church!  You must wear your newest and finest for the big Sunday night competition.

All those hours I spent sewing dresses never ever made me holy as the UPC claimed.  They did make me different which in UPC world is considered a good thing.  They love nothing better than being noticed for their different way of dressing.  Once the pastor called me to come forward before the congregation as an example of what he expected the women to dress like.  Even then, I knew, as far as my standing with the Lord, dresses meant nothing.

For about seventeen years, I wore only dresses but when I realized I could tell a lie easier than I could put on a pair of pants, something was wrong.  There was no holiness in my clothes or any inside of me.  I was an empty shell practicing a religion of works similar to those who are compelled to wear a head scarf or holy underwear.  None of these things are what God is looking at.  He is looking inside of your heart and your motives for doing what you do.  All of these outward things people do to make themselves acceptable to God have no value.  Man-made commandments and doctrines are only self-imposed religion and will in no way make you holy.  In reality, they only serve to make you proud of yourself, your effort, and your appearance.  True holiness described in Ephesians 4:24-32 comes from a heart, mind, and will that is controlled by the Holy Spirit living within.

Therefore, if you died with Christ from the basic principles of the world, why, as though living in the world, do you subject yourselves to regulations—“Do not touch, do not taste, and do not handle,” which all concern things which perish with the using— according to the commandments and doctrines of men?  These things indeed have an appearance of wisdom in self-imposed religion, false humility, and neglect of the body, but are of no value against the indulgence of the flesh.  Colossians 2:20-23 NKJV

Videos on Women only Wearing Skirts/Dresses

Just under five minutes, this is a video from a woman who grew up in a Pentecostal church. She refutes the holiness standard of women only being allowed to wear skirts and dresses. She also lightly touches on other standards taught by performance based churches and shares a little of her background and experience.

EDIT: Unfortunately, the person has made all these videos private, so they are no longer available.

Part 2 is just under ten minutes.

And part 3 is just over 9.5 minutes. Here is where she starts sharing her background.

Part 3b is just over six minutes. The sound is low on this one.

The final installment is just over ten minutes. The sounds quality fluctuates on it.

Breaking Away

About a month ago I trimmed my hair, about 1/8″ off, a few split ends, one strand at a time. But still against what I had been taught. About a week ago I wore my hair in a braid, down, for the first time in public in years. In a church that allows no physical contact between unmarried men and women, I have begun to feel more comfortable with a nonsexual embrace or tap on the shoulder, and even went out to eat with a virtual stranger in a public restaurant this morning with few qualms, although he apparently recognized that I was a bit tense.

There is nothing wrong with these things. The hair trimming may have been done in the wrong spirit (I wanted to break with the traditional teaching, and that was a lot less obvious than pants) but still, there was nothing wrong with it in and of itself. I don’t think that God would send me to hell for what I did, anymore than I can imagine him not loving me simply because I might not go to that church.

Why is God so limited in so many people’s lives? God is infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent… and yet it’s as though we expect him to fit in a tiny jewelry box and sit in our pocket. A genie in a lamp rather than a loving Father.

When my chaplain friend prayed with me, I saw through that prayer a love, faith, and trust that was almost completely foreign to me, and I realized I had been robbed- robbed of my identity in Christ. When a statement was made on a support group board about being a “precious child of God” the thought was reinforced. Knowing this, am I breaking away from something or bridging to something better?

I’ve been told for so long that listening to ideas that are not Apostolic like “we” are is to let the ideas of the devil in. But the devil wouldn’t remind me of the grace and mercy of a loving Father, wouldn’t remind me that I’m a child of God. The devil wants us condemned… and condemnation is exactly what I now feel free of. I don’t have to look over my shoulder or consider what others might think about every word I say, how they might twist it or who they might repeat (or misrepeat) it to. I still wonder how I ever thought that I was right in living for people that way. I don’t want to live for people, I want to live for God. That, in the end, is really the only way to really live.

Tomorrow I go to chapel. A safe place, for me. Tomorrow night I go to a living nativity. For the first time in years, I am really getting the opportunity to celebrate the birth of the One that saved me. How odd it is that I was not allowed to really celebrate His birth. Shouldn’t Christians, of all people, be most apt to celebrate His birth, His death, and His resurrection? What better way to celebrate our life in Him?

Joy to the World!!!

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