“In three carefully researched volumes, this ground-breaking study examines the gift of tongues through 2,000 years of church history. Starting in the present and working back in time, these volumes consider (1) the modern redefinition of ‘tongues’ as a private prayer language…
“In the first volume, the authors establish that modern glossolalia, far from being a supernatural gift enjoyed by certain believers since the time of Pentecost and undergoing a resurgence in modern times, has no precedent in church life prior to the nineteenth century. They discuss why German theologians, responding to the Irvingite revival, coined the term ‘glossolalia’ in the 1830s; why Pentecostals between 1906–8 quietly began redefining ‘tongues’ to mean a heavenly language unintelligible to human beings but pleasing to God, instead of foreign languages useful for evangelism; why Protestant cessationists believed miraculous tongues had ceased; and why interpolated idioms like ‘unknown tongues’ in Protestant Bibles were aimed originally at Rome’s use of Latin.”
One of the authors, Charles Sullivan, has a website where much information about speaking in tongues is posted. I am unsure how much is included in the book.
This giveaway is a drawing. To enter, just leave a comment to show you wish to be included. The drawing will close on July 17, 2024 at 6pm (eastern time), after which I will draw a winner.
Be sure to check back to see if you have won as in the past some people have not responded after winning and so a new winner had to be drawn. You will then need to email me your mailing address if I do not already have it, so be sure to watch your email and check the spam folder. If I know your Facebook profile, I will message you there.
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Check back every month for a new giveaway:
August 13: Unveiling Paul’s Women: Making Sense of 1 Corinthians 11:2–16 by Lucy Peppiatt
September 16: The Uncomfortable Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid: A Memoir by Ronna Russell
October 16: Women and Worship at Corinth: Paul’s Rhetorical Arguments in 1 Corinthians by Lucy Peppiatt
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Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 10, 2015 as part of a series.
I introduced Racquel and Ashley to Cynthia Jeub (now known as Artemis Stardust) shortly before they left their church, the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs.
We had both been homeschooled and raised in a Christian fundamentalist, Quiverfull environment. We went to college together and were both editors for our college’s newspaper. Here is their part of the story, in their own words.
Mouth shut like a locket Like you’ve nothing to say Speak your mind up, Come on, baby, free yourself… Don’t let nobody try and take your soul You’re the original. – Switchfoot
She explained that her best friend, Ashley, was being kept from attending her college classes, and her parents had taken away all contact to the outside world — no Internet, no cell phone, and she couldn’t drive.
“We can get her a cheap cellphone,” I said. “One she can hide, and use in case of an emergency. It’s dangerous if she won’t be able to contact anyone.”
Racquel hesitated.
“I’m not sure if it’s really that big of a deal,” she said. “They’ve only done it a few times, and it made her get behind at school, but I really trust our pastor.”
It would be several weeks before we met in person. We had an argument. Her church was a large congregation of Protestants who spent most of their Sunday meeting time meditating and speaking in tongues.
She told me that the pastor could always tell if your spirit was in the right place or not, based on his communication with the Holy Spirit. I asked if the pastor had any accountability, but she found it unthinkable that he’d say anything that wasn’t true.
Racquel said that though she loved horses, she wasn’t allowed to enter any competitions. She agreed with the church doctrine, she said, because it kept people humble.
Winning competitions, or even trying to be good at something or to look good, was distracting from drawing attention toward God and away from oneself.
That conversation bothered me because it was so backwards: I was taught to pursue excellence, because it brought glory to God, and I was a living sacrifice.
We lived on two sides of the same self-deception.
// // //
It was early 2013, and I drove an hour to the airport to pick up my dad from one of his events. He asked about school and life, and I confided about the exciting things going on: I was rescuing abused adults from cult-like fundamentalist families.
The first person who got out was Eleanor.
I wasn’t there when they moved into their first apartment, but I was part of the group of friends that gave them support as they adjusted to life away from home for the first time in their early twenties.
After that, Eleanor did most of the networking.
They didn’t go looking for these people, they just found them everywhere — in their classes and at work, they found people in the many cult-like churches of Colorado Springs, adults still living at home, adults with weakened self-confidence, adults with limited skills and resources, all trying to get out, all trapped and afraid.
In our little group, I earned the title of “the logical one.”
Eleanor and our other friend, Cynthia Barram, turned to me as the no-nonsense anchor. When Eleanor found someone who was in a bad situation with their church or family, they’d connect them with me, and I’d check the facts. Then we’d find small solutions — things like helping people get a car, cellphone, job, or place to live.
Several people were trapped because their parents wouldn’t even let them get a driver’s license.
I networked with the homeschool families I already knew, and asked them if they could provide safe houses for these young adults. I wanted parents who were good homeschoolers, not abusive, who could demonstrate that homeschooling could be done in a way that wasn’t harmful.
If such parents had a guest bedroom, we could send homeschooled alumni there to pay rent, while still having parental figures who could provide support without the intense control their own parents used.
The homeschooling community could respond, I thought. They could prove to those who’d been abused that it wasn’t all this bad.
It surprised me to find so few homeschooling parents who were willing to help.
I related all of this to my dad, and he quickly shut me down.
“Don’t get between rebellious kids and their parents,” he said. “I do not support this. You don’t know the families and the full stories. You shouldn’t get involved with this at all.”
“Daddy, I think these situations are… different. There are some rebellious kids…”
I didn’t say Alicia, because my older sister’s name was so taboo in our family that it was always implied, and I didn’t want to hurt my father’s feelings.
“But there are also some very controlling churches and families, and they don’t ever let their kids, especially daughters, grow up. Even if they’re adults.”
He grunted severe disapproval, signaling that the conversation was over. That was the most we ever argued, because I always succumbed. I turned up some of the classic rock music he’d introduced me to, and let it drown out any awkwardness in the car.
I decided I cared too much for those girls I’d met to just leave them in those suffocating situations. This was just one more thing I’d stop talking to my dad about.
// // //
Eleanor and our little crew kept working to help people.
We helped one young woman escape from an arranged marriage, and gave resources to people whose parents kept them from contact with the outside world.
Mostly, we talked to our friends who were in cults about their aspirations and personalities, and helped them see their controlling churches as obstacles to what they wanted out of life.
The common theme was that we all had our own problems to sort. I thought there weren’t any problems with my family, but then I needed to fall back on our group more than once. Our friend Suzana supported me when I got drunk for the first time in my life, a few days after my parents kicked me out.
Eleanor was frustrated with how Racquel and Ashley couldn’t see that their church was a cult, but they still kept in touch with her own overbearing parents.
We’d all lost the trusted older-generation adults in our lives, so we leaned on each other, but we were still young and inexperienced and unstable.
I posted an article on the Huffington Post about my frustration with freeing people. I couldn’t control them, but I also knew they wouldn’t stand up for themselves. I was tired of waiting.
I found out later that Ashley used a code name when she talked about me to her mother, because she was afraid her parents might find my writings and deduce that she was planning to leave.
In December, Eleanor sent out a distress signal to the group.
Ashley’s father discovered she was dating a guy outside the church and said he was kicking her out.
Around 6 a.m. on December 16, 2013, Ashley’s father texted her that he was dumping her possessions outside their apartment at 3 p.m.
Eleanor and Racquel left with Ashley to collect her things in Cynthia Barram’s van while her parents were at work.
When Suzana and I arrived, her bedroom furnishings were strewn about.
Racquel drew our attention to the picture frames.
Ashley’s father had removed the family photos with Ashley from the walls and laid them face down in a corner, a symbol that her family had already disowned her for rebelling against the church.
Her father had also damaged the car she drove by tearing off the rubber lining in the door. And dumped out her purse in the car.
Racquel’s parents were less strict, and she moved out on slightly less dramatic terms.
Eleanor was living in a two-bedroom apartment with a roommate who had also left fundamentalist Christianity, and they now housed three extra refugees there, including another girl who worked with us at the school newspaper.
It was too small for all of them, so they moved into a house together, sharing the costs.
Cynthia Jeub writes about philosophy, religion, and growing up in a Quiverfull homeschool family of 16 and being on their television show Kids By The Dozen at cynthiajeub.com. They studied communication and theater at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, where they were a reporter and culture editor at the campus newspaper, The Scribe.
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Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 9, 2015 as part of a series.
Editorial Note: Although Ashley is a survivor of a Christian fundamentalist cult, unfortunately she became abusive herself. She has been reported to several law enforcement agencies for human trafficking others from 2017-2019. She is the abusive partner mentioned in this post from 2022.
I keep Ashley’s story on the blog as a reminder that those who do not heal from their own trauma can and often do end up harming others. If you see online fundraisers for Ashley or her current partners, please know that anything you donate may enable her to continue to cause harm, and we would caution anyone against donating to her. If you know where she is, please report her to the authorities since she has been avoiding speaking to investigators for several years.
Ashley grew up attending the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs, now known as Heritage Pentecostal Church. This is Ashley’s story, told in her own words.
Do you know what it’s like when You’re scared to see yourself? Do you know what it’s like when You wish it were someone else Who didn’t need your help to get by? Do you know what it’s like To wanna surrender? I don’t wanna feel like this tomorrow I don’t wanna live like this today Make me feel better, I wanna feel better Stay with me here now and never surrender Never surrender. – Surrender, Skillet
“Mama! Mama! Look at the butterfly!” I squealed in delight at the wonder perched on my shoulder.
“Don’t move, Lovey! It’ll fly away.”
I stood as still as possible as my mom snapped a picture of this beautiful creature, and watched as it flew away. I remember thinking as I watched the butterfly float into a beautiful, summer day, how amazing it would be to be able to just whisk yourself away whenever you chose.
I had no idea how much I would pine for that fantasy to become a reality.
I always remember my parents being there, no matter what the occasion was. Pajama day at school, grown-up day, job day, doctor’s appointments, they were always present. I can’t remember an important event they were not there for.
I went to them with everything, no matter how strange, and they were always brutally honest with me. I liked it that way. Being a straightforward person, I needed that to grow. Things were always so comfortable — and then 2001 came and everything changed. Drastically.
My mom had gotten involved with a church when she was 15, and the experience had always stayed with her. She had visited a Pentecostal holiness church and had received what they call the Holy Ghost, which to them is the basis of salvation. You cannot attain Heaven without it, and once you have received it, even if you walk away from God, you are marked and you will be a target for Satan.
My dad, on the other hand, is Irish/German and was raised Catholic. He was actually an altar boy growing up and wanted to become a priest. However, he grew out of that sometime in high school.
While living in Louisiana, my mom met a girl named Billie Jo, and they went to a Pentecostal church together. My mom converted all the way this time (lost the pants, threw away the jewelry, chucked the TV and music) and as soon as my dad joined, we essentially became Amish with microwaves.
Ashley (center) at a church outreach and evangelism event called Youth with Truth at Acacia Park in downtown Colorado Springs on June 29, 2013. | Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
But even then, my parents broke me in slowly.
As an only child, I had practically every Disney movie known to man, and they allowed me to hand over my Disney movies in exchange for Veggie Tales. From there, it was my Veggie Tales traded in for either a trampoline or a puppy. My daddy bought me both.
They introduced me into that world slowly, and with ease. I appreciated that, even then. I knew they could have completely ripped everything away from me and made the transition harder than it already was. But they didn’t.
I never thanked them for that. I guess it kind of got buried under everything other emotion that surfaced after.
At first, things weren’t so bad. The family environment was great. Having no family in Colorado, the church appeared to be exactly what we needed. I started going to the church school which consisted of about 50 kids. I made friends quickly, and it seemed so easy at first. We were accepted as new converts and everything was cool.
My parents also made friends, and were treated like family by the pastor. They were like their kids.
I believe this is what started the depth of my parents’ relationship with the ministry. Around 2006, the pastor decided he wanted to evangelize and ended up electing a man from Mississippi to pastor the church.
I’ve never seen a man so hell bent on changing people for the worst.
Brother and Sister Burgess at Ashley’s high school graduation. | Photo: Ashley Kavanaugh
To my parents, this couple took the place of God. I have literally heard my dad say that if John Burgess asked him to stand on his head for 6 hours a day, in the middle of Interstate 25, that he would do it without hesitation.
They believe that he is the voice of God, that even if he is wrong, and they sin because of his advice, that God would honor their obedience and look past their own wrongdoing.
The church services are filled with hype and the sermons are mostly guilt, especially directed at young people. They warn us of the wrath of God if we choose to walk away and almost every service we are reminded of the horrors that have happened to backsliders all through Pentecostal history, including those from our own youth group.
One of the stories of backsliders was one of my close friends Sharonda.
She grew up with me, my mom babysat her and her older sister, and I looked up to this girl. She was my idol for a long time. She was my piano inspiration, she was cool, and she loved people.
I’ve never met a heart as big as Sharonda’s.
She was shot and killed late summer 2012. The case was never solved, and the Burgesses made not only her death, but also her funeral, an omen and message to all of us, that we should not run from God, for he is a jealous God, and his vengeance is strong.
She is seldom mentioned among the young people. It just hurts too much.
Brother John Burgess leading prayer during church outreach event called Youth With Truth at Acacia Park in downtown Colorado Springs on June 29, 2013. | Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
The Burgesses continued to push their way into the minds of the church, and more and more young people have been driven away from God.
Most of the “backsliders” that I know don’t even believe in a benevolent God anymore.
This started to become my opinion very young. I couldn’t see how any of this made sense. I thought the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was just and honorable? Not malicious and manipulative.
After my parents began to blindly follow the pastor, I started to lose control. I shut off all emotions because I just couldn’t handle them anymore. I began to get more and more reclusive, and eventually began to blame myself for the guilt and pain that my parents were dealing with due to the controlling ways of the church.
I didn’t know how to get help, and I began to fall into a deeper depression. I began to self-harm. This was done in so many ways, I can’t even begin to explain it all. Eventually, the self-harm wasn’t enough. I attempted suicide six times, starting at the age of 11.
I tried everything. Nothing worked.
My mom caught me cutting once and literally dragged me in to Shanna Burgess (the pastor’s wife), who promptly told me as I lay on the floor, bleeding, that it was all in my head, and I needed to stop being so angry at God.
She told me I was the one to blame.
After coming to her weeks before with my heart wide open and breaking in pieces, I explained one reason why I felt so alone. I was sexually assaulted when I was 6 years old and had no way to express my feelings. She, of course, immediately took this information to my mother, who denied it.
My parents have never believed me. Sister Burgess told me I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself because come on, it never happened!
I hated them before but after this? I could never forgive them.
Brother and Sister Burgess had and still have a hold on my parents like nothing I’ve ever seen.
(Left to right) Brother John Burgess, Ashley Kavanaugh, and Kevin Kavanaugh at Heritage Christian Academy’s 2012 high school graduation. Heritage Christian Academy is a private, unaccredited school operated by the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs. | Photo: Ashley Kavanaugh
When I turned 18, things started to look up. I was finally allowed to have a phone because I had turned 18 (pastor’s rules for youth), I was finally granted rights to a car (that I bought, of course), and everything was going good.
I had been in good graces with the Burgesses and my family. I was following the rules to perfection.
And then after a falling out with my best friend at the time, I started to become close friends with a girl named Racquel. We began to grow closer and closer as the months went on, and before you knew it, we were opening up to each other. I told her things I had never told anyone ever.
Eventually, our concerns about the church and their doctrines, the Burgesses and all sorts of other questions came to the forefront of our conversations and we began to discuss them.
We grew even closer after learning about some of the abuse that the other one had endured.
We got caught discussing these topics, and we were separated and forbidden to speak to one another. This happened four times.
Each time we grew closer and closer and eventually, we started to go to extreme lengths to see each other. My parents and the Burgesses resorted to lying to both of us, trying to force us to hate each other.
After another six months of not speaking, we once again rebelled and talked about what had happened. We realized they had lied to both of us, obtaining information by hacking email and bank accounts. My parents forced me to stop attending my college classes because Racquel might try to visit me there.
We communicated to each other through Eleanor for about three weeks, and then we started to sneak out again.
We had contemplated running away many times before, but something was different this time.
When two adults aren’t allowed to talk because they get caught listening to One Direction, there’s some serious malfunction going on. It had reached an all-time idiocy and we had enough.
We both left home, and the night I did that was the hardest decision of my life.
Three days later, my dad was going to throw my stuff on the sidewalk. My mom, who was out of town at the time, convinced him to let me come pack my stuff, so he left for a few hours.
Racquel and Eleanor went with me. The first thing I noticed when I came in was that all my pictures were taken off the walls and lay facing down. Some sat in piles on the floor. I almost lost it then.
I just remember feeling like my parents died, and I was cleaning out their house.
A little later, Cynthia Jeub and another friend also came over. I’ll never forget the look on Cynthia’s face when I saw her. I walked outside to greet them, and she just looked so disturbed. But there was also pride in her eyes.
She hugged me for a good ten minutes. I’ve never expressed how much that hug meant to me.
They helped me pack up, and I decided last minute to check my mom’s car. I went to look for any remaining items, and when I opened the door, I saw that the inside of the car was destroyed.
I can only assume my dad went crazy and trashed the car. It was really scary.
Everyone was panicking because we didn’t know when he was coming back, and he had guns, so people were starting to freak out. We left not long after.
It didn’t really hit me until then, how drastic the change was going to be.
Since then, I have gone through a lot. I’ve put myself through an abusive relationship, made myself be something I wasn’t, lost connection with my family for months at a time because of “religious differences,” moved around a lot, found out I was adopted by my dad, been through a ton of counseling, self-harmed, ran from my home state, even shut my humanity off a few times.
But one thing I can say I haven’t, nor will I ever do, is forget who I am and where I came from.
I can’t express how hard it has been. The sleepless nights, the thousands of times I’ve cried myself to sleep, and woke up screaming. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
But you know what? I don’t regret it. I can’t. I’ve invested too much into this decision to fault it.
To those of you trying to escape, it’s not impossible. It’s not easy, but I promise its worth it.
We have helped more people come out since my decision to leave, and the feeling is so liberating, knowing you are a voice and a model for them.
To those of you who have siblings that are still in captivity, don’t give up hope. They will make it. YOU are their light, no matter how dark you feel sometimes.Because sometimes the darkest shadows have been cast by the brightest lights.
And no matter what bad choices you make long the way, I’ve found that I don’t have to be ashamed of them. Because they are finally my decisions.
So while wading through your red river of screams just as we have, remember you do not fight alone. You can make it.
And never surrender…. the battle will be worth it, and we will win the war. I don’t wanna feel like this tomorrow I don’t wanna live like this today Make me feel better, I wanna feel better Stay with me here now and never surrender Never surrender
Ashley Kavanaugh attended public school during her elementary school years, but her parents later chose to homeschool her online when they joined the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs. She finished her senior year of high school at Heritage Christian Academy, the private school operated by that church. Her adopted father is an attorney, but she was the first person on her mother’s side of the family to finish high school and attend college. She is interested in studying psychology, forensics, and criminal justice.
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Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 7, 2015 as part of a series.
Content Note: religious manipulation, forced starvation
Eleanor and Racquel hiking the Incline near Colorado Springs in fall 2013. | Photo: Eleanor Skelton
Racquel grew up attending the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs, now known as Heritage Pentecostal Church. This is Racquel’s story, in her own words.
Somehow I never imagined that the inner peace and joy I felt as a 5-year-old girl after being filled with the Holy Ghost would later disgust and scare me.
I am writing this because I believe my voice should be heard. I hope that by telling my story it will help my healing and others with similar stories as well as prevent more stories like mine from happening.
The music was loud, and the atmosphere was pulsing with energy.
I wanted to show how much I loved God, so I went up to the front of the sanctuary and danced with all my might, letting my tears flow. I had been taught that I should dance before the Lord and not let anyone’s opinion stop me.
Often, I was the first one or the only one at the front of the church.
This was good. It meant I was a leader, and that I was fighting spiritual warfare. It would also show my pastor, who was God’s voice in my life, how my walk with God was and what a good apostolic young person I was.
I remember night after night where this was my mindset.
Racquel (far left, wearing an orange dress) speaks in tongues on the front row during Heritage Youth Conference, fall 2011. | Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
I was isolated from other members of the youth group because I would refuse to do things that the pastor had commanded us not to, like riding in a car with a guy unless it was approved or unless a married approved chaperone was in the car.
However, there were also the many, many times where I sat or knelt at the altar, weeping and feeling the guilt of my many sins when I simply failed to uphold the standards because I had listened to unchristian music, watched a TV show, or could not stick to a daily prayer life.
For years, I went through a cycle of getting in trouble with my best friend, Ashley, for questioning the pastoral authority and why we held to some of our standards, sometimes completely disregarding the rules, and then being told that my best friend and I should not talk or hang out because our personalities did not complement each other.
Meanwhile, I stood by as she was abused in so many ways by both the pastoral authority and her parents. The only thing I could do was be there for her.
In January 2013, my best friend and I had come to the conclusion that we did not and could not agree with the church. However, we were discovered yet again and ripped apart.
This time, the pastor lied to both of us, trying to turn us against each other by saying that the other one had ratted us out.
At the direction and guidance of the pastor, Ashley’s parents were punishing her for not losing weight because it was said that God could not use her unless she lost the weight. Because of her inability to meet their demands, she had begun starving herself.
I texted her one night in compassion and frustration that she should “F*** (written politely as $@##) what they think” to drive home to Ashley that starving herself was not the answer, and that her parents and pastor were wrong.
During one of the long sessions in the pastor’s office after getting caught, I discovered the pastor had hacked into my best friend’s phone and found my text.
I was questioned about my lack of respect for authority.
My hands were tied as I seethed in anger not able to tell the pastor the context of the text, lest the abuse she suffered would increase, because the pastor was part the abuse.
Back then, Ashley was too scared of losing her parents and being kicked out to do anything other than play along with them. When she was 19 years old, her parents and the pastor stripped every form of communication, transportation and even her ability to go to college from her.
She was not even allowed to be alone in her own home at any time.
Racquel (far right) singing in the choir. Apostolic churches consider leading worship to be a privilege called being “on the platform.” Anyone who questions authority or church beliefs may be removed from the platform as form of social shaming. |Photo: First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs
In March, the deception worked, and the pressure finally broke me to the point that I gave in and did exactly as the church and the pastor wanted me to do. I felt helpless and that the reason for these crazy feelings must be because I was not submitted to them.
I continued to not talk to my best friend and tried to force myself into the mold they had created for me with my approved Christian friends and guilt-ridden prayer life.
I still had all of the same questions.
Why must a man my pastor dictate to me what God wants and God not talk to me directly? Why must I not be allowed to talk to my best friend who was still the most important person in my life?
How could so many injustices and abuse be what a loving god wanted?
So when my little sister decided to leave suddenly and move in with a guy I had never met, and I had no idea were she was or if she was safe, when my approved friends failed, I reached out to the one person I knew who would be there: Ashley.
Within two weeks of resuming secret communication, we had both discussed in detail what we saw wrong with the church, and had stated that no matter what we were going to keep communicating, even if it had to be hidden.
Ashley, Eleanor and Racquel in August 2013 | Photo: Eleanor Skelton
Almost immediately, she started to date a coworker.
On December 15, 2013, her dad followed her to her boyfriend’s house, and that night he kicked her out.
I received a text that said: “They know everything can you come and get me.” I immediately drove to her house and picked her up.
After that, we stayed in Eleanor’s apartment. She had also recently escaped an abusive fundamentalist home.
There has been a lot of healing and learning since then and now. Learning to live outside of the box has not been easy, nor do I think it ever will.
I now have the wonderful freedom of choice, and with that comes what I would describe as both the beauty of a rainbow and the burden of the rain cloud.
Making these choices is the scariest and most exhilarating thing that I have ever done. I have learned and accepted more of who I am.
I can only hope that healing will come in time, and the scars will become less painful.
Racquel graduated with a bachelor’s in psychology from the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs in May 2014. She struggled with undereducation from inadequate homeschooling and Christian private education in her church throughout her time in college. Racquel hopes to pursue a graduate degree in counseling and mental health, and her current job involves assisting troubled teens.
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The following is part six of a six part guest series from Alicia Sounier Dwivedi, a former United Pentecostal Church member. See Part 1,Part 2,Part 3, Part 4 & Part 5.
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Since we know belief alone saves us – what about baptism? Baptism is a declaration of spiritual warfare in the unseen realm. Believing in Jesus saves us – baptism is a loyalty oath! It declares whose side you are on in a spiritual war. Believe on Jesus – be baptized. It’s a wonderful first step of a heart changed by the Spirit – how beautiful! Michael Heiser covers this very well in a variety of his teachings from books, podcasts, and You Tube videos. Some would deny this, but let me ask this. If baptism is likened unto circumcision, how did circumcision save anybody? If you feel it did save, than it must have only saved men. Too bad so sad for women.
I’d always assumed my fear of God and hell came from the inability to speak in tongues. However, now I know so many who do speak in tongues are fear-filled too. This is because legalism and doctrinal error have stolen the peace of God. I fully believe had I been given the Gift of Tongues there would still have been fear and questions needing to be addressed as I tried to keep earning my salvation as taught by the church.
Another thing that really makes me doubt a variety of tongues spoken in our churches today is the story of a pastor’s wife I know who said speaking in tongues came so easily to her that she could be thinking about other things like her grocery list while babbling in tongues. What is the use? What mindless prayer…is this really praying in the Spirit? No.
A friend I went to Bible College with (who’s since walked away from God and the UPC church) told me he still speaks in tongues when he gets emotional. Once he was at a non-Christian concert and raised his hands at an emotional part in a song, and busted out in tongues! He said this can also happen at various parties thrown at home, and it amuses his guests. I’m not sharing this story to put him down in the least, but I’m sharing this because tongues is not all it’s cracked up to be, especially when they are used in a way that’s not scriptural. So the big question then becomes how much of the tongue talking going on in our services is really scriptural? I’ve come to think a majority of it is just an emotional response.
Another friend told me she knows a UPC pastor who has never spoken in tongues, and he doesn’t believe tongues are necessary to show the infilling of the Holy Ghost! I pray more UPC’ers come to this conclusion. [Note from Lois: Everyone who applies for license with the UPCI is asked if they believe that speaking with other tongues as the Spirit gives utterance is the initial
sign of the baptism of the Holy Ghost and if they have received this experience. The application asks where and when it happened and these questions are asked for each level of licensing.]
Someone recently told me they didn’t know anyone who hadn’t spoken in tongues (until my story came out). I just want to point out that unless someone trusts enough to share they haven’t spoken in tongues, then no one will know they haven’t spoken in tongues. The individual (me in this case) has to be able to trust in another not to shame them. And this person who said this to me has known me my whole life pretty much. Now many have come to me privately stating they feel like I’m telling their story as I’ve shared my own. We are not just one or two scattered here and there, but we could fill churches. We never know the pain someone is experiencing growing up sitting on the same pews right beside us.
My mother recently went to my previous pastor, and let him know I hadn’t really ever spoken in tongues. Do you want to know what he said? I will tell you… “Five minutes with me, and she’ll be speaking in other tongues.” What nonsense is this? Does he bring the Spirit? No. As if he hadn’t already prayed for me a gazillion times in my life! It didn’t work then, why would he think it’d work now? The Spirit determines the gifts each believer is to receive – not a pastor or anybody else.
Salvation has always been by belief in both the Old and New Testaments. Covenants change, but not the way of salvation. This is why the thief on the cross was able to be saved – because he believed in Jesus. There are so many denominational legalistic teachings that jump through hoops to try and justify situations like this, but it all comes down to belief. So simple. Such a blessing. So much peace in Jesus when we can rest in his assurance. And yes, people can be saved on their deathbeds by repenting and believing in Jesus (think thief on the cross).
As a result of where I am now, I feel such a kindred spirit with other believers. They are my brothers and sisters – not people I need to try to convert to a denomination. Understanding my place in Christ has made me want to share what I’ve learned. Everyone who loves Jesus and wants to live for him deserves to understand what God really wants for us and from us – belief and devotion to him only.
God is not a mean Father standing over us just waiting to string us up by our toes to drop us into hellfire for eternity if we mess up, don’t pray enough, wear pants, cut our hair, or something else a denomination has decided is a sin.
Here are some things I’ve relearned about our Heavenly Father…
1. He doesn’t require tongues as an admittance ticket into Heaven. HE ISN’T A BIG MEANIE.
2. The Bible doesn’t promote spanking of children as long as you pray before and after the act. “Sparing the rod” is not about spanking. When you learn the rod and staff are for the comforting and training of his sheep (not hitting his sheep) you realize HE ISN’T A BIG MEANIE.
a. I get it…raising children is hard and frustrating sometimes, especially when we’re unsure on how to bring about the desired behavior. I recommend Positive Parenting Solutions to help with a variety of issues. Their tips are tremendous for both parent and child.
3. We are not in an abusive relationship with God. He does not require we serve him OR ELSE he will torture us for eternity in hell. God wants to live with those who love him for eternity in Heaven. Those who do not want him will die a second death in hell and be dead for eternity (not alive and being tortured for all the rest of time). HE ISN’T A BIG MEANIE.
4. Tithes are not a requirement for Christians. God doesn’t require people give give give monetarily until they’ve given to such an extent that they have had to neglect their very own real needs to support the church. HE ISN’T A BIG MEANIE. See this post.
Would we ever think it’s a beautiful and sweet behavior to see a child crying and begging for a gift? “I’ll try hard to be good, mom & dad, I promise. May I pleeeeeease have my gift?” Tears pouring down face… “Pleeeeeease. I love you so much. I will change, I will do what you asked me to do. PLEEEEEASE!” Hands in the air pleading for this gift, and sobs wracking body. “This time may I have it?” Now put this on repeat a hundred times over. Yet, here we are expecting not only ourselves, but also our children, to approach our loving God like this for salvation. God must be so heartbroken! I would feel ashamed of myself if this was how I required my child to act like towards me.
Matthew 18:1-8 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who BELIEVE in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble! Such things must come, but woe to the person through whom they come!”
I fully recognize and understand how scary and unsettling it can be to realize something we have been taught as truth may not actually be truth. There are a lot of emotions that go along with this revelation. However, how often do we hear that when God is trying to do a work in us it can be painful at times like the pressure it takes to make diamonds? We are a work in progress. He is the potter, and we are the clay.
*Jesus is the narrow gate into Heaven – not a denomination and their rules.
*What does ‘backslidden’ really mean? Teaser alert – it is not leaving your denomination! See this article.
*I highly HIGHLY recommend listening to Deanna Jo’s YouTube channel Responsible Faith. She’s an ex UPC’er who reteaches a lot of scripture that was used to bind the saints into imaging a denomination, and shows what scripture is really trying to say. Image Jesus – not a denomination.
*I recommend the book Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Church Practices by Frank Viola and George Barna. This book delves into the history of our church practices, and what God really wants for his people. God wants a much more individualistic functioning of each of his children. Each and every member has an important role, and each one is just as important as the next. Our current church style makes the preacher have a really big mouth, and saints on the pews really big ears. This is not what God intended for the preacher or church body.
*This is a two-part teaching on the Grace of God. You’ll laugh, maybe cry, but in the end understand more about our wonderful Jesus.
*Mike Winger, The Beat by Allen Parr, Keeping it in Context by Aurelio Lessey have a lot of excellent teachings on a variety of topics on You Tube.
If anyone would like to contact me with sincere questions, please feel free to email me at alicia.dwivedi@gmail.com. If anyone would like to contact me to berate or threaten me with hell – it won’t work. Fear and hell no longer have a hold on me.
I hope and pray my testimony of fear to faith will help people come to a better understanding of the Gospel and salvation. God Bless!
Alicia Sounier Dwivedi – April 27, 2023
Deanna Jo of Responsible Faith interviews Alicia:
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Mouth shut like a locket
Do you know what it’s like when
