After spending most of his life in the United Pentecostal Church the author examines the theology of the UPCI. By drawing on his own experiences and examining the teachings of Scripture with the teachings of the UPCI, the author shows that the imaginary dragons that were placed in his life to prevent him from venturing out too far away from the doctrines were not real. The hope is for others who see the issues within the United Pentecostal Church but have been too afraid to question or examine the theology that they too will see that there’s no such thing as dragons.
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The following is part three of a six part guest series from Alicia Sounier Dwivedi, a former United Pentecostal Church member. See Part 1 and Part 2.
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After leaving Bible College I still attended our United Pentecostal church for a good many years, and stayed faithful despite my lack of understanding. I was still just hoping when I died I would squeak into Heaven somehow. Looking back, I can see I was like a whipped puppy with its tail between its legs, hoping my master would be happy to see me instead of throwing me into a lake of tormenting fire for all of eternity.
Side-note…I’ve become an annihilationist, which believes a soul is not tormented in Hell for eternity. We believe the mortal body will die a second death in Hell after being judged for sin, and then that person will be dead for all of eternity. After all, Jesus said there would be a second death in Hell, and not a second life suffering for all of eternity. Here’s a link to this beautiful truth that our Lord is not a tormentor just because people reject him…scripture after scripture after scripture pointing out this very fact.
During my late 20’s my mom and I moved away from our church in Augusta to live in Northern Maine. Up north we attended a very small Pentecostal home church during our couple of years there. It was during this time I realized something about myself – I was really good at taking notes during services (writing down verses mentioned and small phrases to remind myself what was said about that verse). What I wasn’t good at was studying subjects out thoroughly. I wanted to make a change.
At some point the UPC had made and handed out to their people a laminated pamphlet that stated at the top of it, “I’m Pentecostal because”… Then below was listed phrases like, “I don’t wear pants because,” and the scripture locations for this subject. “I don’t wear jewelry because,” and then associated scriptures with jewelry. The list went on and on to cover two sides, but the interesting part is it started with what women were to do and not do.
As I determined to sit down and study out a subject I became confused with the very first scripture reference about why a woman wasn’t allowed to wear jewelry. Not only was a phrase lifted out of the verse, but other phrases were completely ignored! If this verse was to be taken at face value, then not only was jewelry not to be worn, but in addition to jewelry then neither was the color red to be worn, taking a bath, wearing fine leather sandals, doing your hair, and the list goes on and on. I WAS SHOCKED.
So I moved on to the next subject – why a woman shouldn’t dye her hair. Answer = one cannot make their hair black or white. WHAT?!?! This was the only verse on why we shouldn’t dye our hair? Well, neither can I make myself short or tall, but I wear heals. Neither can I make my hair curly or straight, but I sure do perm my hair and then straighten it with a straight iron sometimes. I couldn’t believe what I was actually reading. The UPC’s own pamphlet was the beginning of the end for UPC life for me. The scriptures themselves began to move me away from what I’d always been taught…BUT STILL I HAD AN ISSUE WITH TONGUES.
In my early 30’s I moved away from Maine to Michigan to marry the love of my life. When I moved here I found a UPC church to attend sometimes. The people there were (and are) very kind and loving. However, I felt I would never fit into a UPC crowd anymore. Because my standards were changing, I didn’t ‘look’ the part. I would never be asked to be used in any type of ministry because I didn’t ‘look’ the part. I was actually very grieved in my heart because I didn’t know what I was anymore. I couldn’t call myself Pentecostal as I no longer ‘looked’ the part. How many times do I have to say this? It didn’t matter that I held to all other beliefs. My outside standards weren’t up to par, so I would never truly fit in no matter how much I tried.
Once I had my own child I knew I didn’t want her growing up in a place where she would not fit in. I wanted to find an alternate church, but literally had no clue where to go. I WAS SCARED. I was afraid of being misled. I was afraid of false doctrine. I was afraid of finding a church where I ‘looked’ like I fit in, but it would be a ‘dead/dry’ church. So for many years I went nowhere, all the while still grieved in my heart that I would probably not make it to Heaven when I died.
The UPC does a fantastic job of circling the wagons around its own, giving them a false sense of security in their ‘full revelations’ of ‘no-error’ doctrine. No one has the full truth except them, which makes literally everybody else spiritually dangerous to the ‘real’ saints. Once a person leaves the UPC they don’t know who to trust. At times I truly felt I needed therapy because I would have such tormenting thoughts rolling around in my mind, yet I didn’t know who to go to for help.
I didn’t think anyone would truly understand me if they didn’t have some sort of UPC background. So I didn’t end up going to anyone with my troubles. Now I know of many others who are so traumatized by their experiences in the UPC that they have to take anti-anxiety meds before services just to be able to get through them. Others I know of for sure have had to go to therapy due to their Pentecostal church experiences. Why is this? Does this sound like overcoming lives? Why all of this mental hardship? Answer = legalism vs faith. When you are taught you have to constantly earn your salvation in a variety of ways, it becomes horrifically burdensome when you feel like you cannot measure up.
At 41 years old I remember time and again holding my little baby girl and feeling such love for her overwhelm me. Tears would roll down my cheeks just looking at her, and I wanted to give her every good and wonderful gift in life. In fact, when she was three months old, I was holding her and bawling my eyes out. When my mom saw my face, she asked me what in the world I was crying about so badly. No joke, I was having ’empty-nest’ syndrome. I couldn’t stop crying because my little girl was growing up too fast, and would leave me in about 18 years!
This would oftentimes bring my thoughts back to God who was supposed to love me even more than my all-consuming love for my daughter. How could he withhold a precious gift from me that he said he’d freely give? Why would he make me beg? Was there something so wrong with me that he wouldn’t accept me? What did I need to do in life to make him love me enough to give me the Holy Ghost? I’d dedicated years of my life to God, and the only other thing I could have done to show my sincerity was to probably become a nun…I was literally clueless.
So for many more years I didn’t know what to do in aspect of understanding God any better. To me he was confusing and his word was confusing. I don’t know how I loved him with my whole heart for so many years, yet was so terrified of him at the same time. In all these years I never walked away from him though. I just sat and did nothing, waiting for some relief in my soul.
When I was 44 I finally did something I had been scared to do for years – I went to a non-denominational church in my local area. I’d been debating it for months, but was scared to take that first step. Being so hyper vigilant against anything that wasn’t UPC had really done a good job of making other churches seem lost and not of God. I remember various quotes like, “they can be sincere, but sincerely wrong,” and “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” being said of other Christians. You see I was taught the UPC only had FULL truth. Other churches may have partial truth, but it’s not full truth. Therefore you can never go backwards to other churches because then you will be backslidden. What does backslidden really mean? It’s not what we were taught in the UPC, and it’s definitely not meant to be applied to someone who walks away from the UPC or any other denomination. If you’d like to know more, click on this link.
So one Sunday morning here I am sitting towards the back of this large church. Full of both suspicion and hope, I watched people mingling while waiting for the service to start. I was on high alert! The song service starts, and within moments I feel my familiar friend, Jesus, touch my heart. Tears begin coursing down my cheeks as I realize he’s in this church too, and these people aren’t ‘dangerous’. They want to be closer to God too – just like me.
This church wasn’t as demonstrative as a Pentecostal church is, but that was OK. I didn’t need whooping and hollering to feel like God was in the midst of the people. At one point during the song service a lady started giving a message in tongues, and boy was I amazed. Gifts of the Spirit were here too! Then the interpretation came, and it was at this very point in my life God began opening my heart to HIS truth. I will describe to the best of my ability what I remember from the interpretation of tongues. It was very powerful and moving. God’s message was this; “YOU ARE MY CHILD, AND YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY CHILD. THE DEVIL HAS TRIED TO DECEIVE YOU AND TAKE YOU FROM MY HAND, BUT YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN HEAVEN, YOU WILL BE BY MY SIDE FOREVER.”
There was more to it than this as the lady interpreted for probably a minute, but I cannot remember exact details. The interpretation was so emphatic and full of authority. I felt God was speaking directly to me and addressing the doubts I’d had about him and salvation literally all of my life. However, a little seed of doubt began to sprout up…”what if this message wasn’t for me, but for someone else here?” Then the pastor got up and explained to the congregation what the gift of tongues and interpretation were, and why they had taken place. You see – this didn’t happen SO OFTEN at this church. The pastor had to explain it!
This confirmed this message indeed was from God to me on my very first visit at this church. God knew I needed something from him, and he gave it to me…HE GAVE IT TO ME! I still didn’t understand why I didn’t speak in tongues, but knew from that point on I didn’t have to fear going to hell anymore because I wasn’t able to ‘perform’ in tongues.
At 45 years old I began to be set-free from a mindset of fear. An unexpected variety of people were about to enter my life who would make the word of God plain. I am completely changed, and my life will never be the same! As I gradually began to understand from all of my studying, the beautiful peace of God began to wrap itself around my bruised heart and mind. My idea of who God was, and how he’d been dealing harshly with me began to change as I saw he was more loving and kind than I had been led to believe.
Legalism and erroneous doctrine had made his nature very harsh. This is now not the God I know and love with my whole heart. I’ve gone from confusion while reading my Bible to not being able to have enough study time. Now this doesn’t mean I don’t run into confusing things. I enjoy listening to teachings on a variety of subjects, and have found AMAZING people who rightly divide the word of truth. You know what’s become really fun? DEBATES! You want a fully rounded view on a subject? Listen to a debate, and then make up your own mind. You don’t have to be forced to agree with anybody or believe EVERYTHING they teach. God lets us make up our own minds on a large variety of issues, and his Spirit convicts and teaches us where needed.
NOW I feel God’s yoke is easy and burden light. NOW I can go to him without feeling like a whipped puppy. NOW I know I am a beloved child of God. NOW I don’t fear hell in the least. In fact (this may sound a little weird) I get excited tingles from time to time thinking that when I die I will get to see my Jesus face to face with no fear. No more squeaking into Heaven for me!
You know what else is easy? Speaking to others of the hope that is in me. I no longer feel inadequate. If God can do this for me, then he can do it for you too.
Then & Now: Changes to the United Pentecostal Articles of Faith: Holiness. Comparing 1952 to 2022.
1952 Articles of Faith Holiness Section
The United Pentecostal Church formed in 1945. Over the years they have increasingly added rules. Here we will examine what the Articles of Faith have stated about holiness.
Please note the added changes between 1952 and the current year. Back then there was one sentence followed by four scripture quotes. While the same passages are quoted today, a whole list of disapproved practices follow.
1954 resolution to add to Articles of Faith
It was in 1954 that a resolution was considered and passed at General Conference to add the last paragraph to the holiness section. It was prompted by how television had been pervading our society.
The addition first appears in the 1955 Manual, with the exception of “or swimming” after mixed bathing, as we see in the present version. Somewhere between 1994 and 2002 those two words were added. (I have the 1994 and 2002 Manuals, but not those in between.)
December 1954 Pentecostal Herald hair tract
In the October 1954 edition of The Pentecostal Herald (the UPCI’s official publication), they featured a 4 and a half page article about not cutting a woman’s hair. The Hair Question was written by Murray E. Burr. By the end of the year they had released the article in tract form.
It is interesting to note, for as much as they harp on women wearing pants, this was never specifically mentioned in the Articles of Faith. In addition, though many today believe that the UPCI has dropped their stand against television, it is still spoken against here.
2022 Articles of Faith Holiness
To read the entire 1952 UPCI Articles of Faith, go here.
Then & Now: Changes to the United Pentecostal Articles of Faith- Public School Activities. Comparing 1952 to 2022.
1952 Articles of Faith Public School Activities
The United Pentecostal Church formed in 1945. Over the years they have increasingly added rules. Here we will examine what the Articles of Faith have stated about public school activities.
Please note all the added changes between 1952 and the current year. This section was not included in the initial UPCI Manual. It first appeared in 1948. In 1952 this section contained one sentence. Since then, four more have been added.
They remained as written in the 1952 version through 1981. In 1982, the second paragraph had been added and it stayed like this through the 1989 Manual. The next two paragraphs were added in the 1990 Manual and it has not changed since then.
2022 Articles of Faith Public School Activities
To read the entire 1952 UPCI Articles of Faith, go here.
TW: I do discuss my experience with receiving the Holy Ghost and dress standards in the way that is taught in apostolic Pentecostal churches, as well as my baptism. It is primarily told from the perspective I had at the time.
I have to put another disclaimer before I continue: I was in this church organization for nearly two decades, but portions of my memory are a big blur. There are large blocks of time I have forgotten entirely. Part of this is due to a series of medical events later on, and partly due to complex trauma. I will endeavor to piece together what I do remember, as it’s the crucial foundation that has shaped who I am today. Everything I write, however, is my truth. My experience. And no one can take that away from me. With that being said, lets delve into the past— twenty years, to be precise…
Walking into the church for the first time was like walking into a whole new world. It was a smallish congregation, at least compared to the mega non-denominational churches with celebrity pastors I’d attended before. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming. I was shy, so I clung to my friend. We’ll call her “Raylene.” (I’m not going to use real names at any point in my posts, by the way.) Many people came up to me and shook my hand. It was so different from what I’d experienced before. People cared about little old me? And there were young people!
As someone who loved singing, the vibrant music swept me away. The congregation singing at the top of their lungs, lifting their hands, oozing with emotion. Still hurting deeply, it touched something within me. And the preaching was very emotive, not holding back.
Still, I kept my guard up in those early days. I didn’t want to be treated like a lost person in need of Jesus. I already had Jesus! I’d accepted Him as my Lord and Savior, I’d even been baptized (in a high school pool), and I loved the Bible.
As time went on, however, I was starkly aware of my differences. I wore pants and jewelry, and I love to play with makeup (as any average teenage girl does). These were my new friends, but I still wasn’t quite “in” their world. Was I wrong? As kind as they were, I was an outsider. Think of how pleased they would be if I followed these new rules! Perhaps I would be more pleasing to Jesus too?
I agreed to the Bible studies. They taught me the “plan of salvation” according to Acts 2:38. No longer was accepting Jesus as your savior good enough. No, there was now a multi-step process to go through. The way it was presented sounded logical enough, though the thought of speaking in tongues was unnerving. And the studies on hair, clothing, and other holiness “standards” followed soon after, to explain why they all looked the way they did. Everything had a Bible verse to back it up in some shape or fashion. Surely that meant it was correct? I was inexperienced in exegesis and deeper, independent study, so I took their word on it.
By the time January of the following year rolled around, I’d already started wearing skirts. My mom was all too pleased to take me out shopping for them, as we’d been on the heels of our time in a different fundamentalist church that had also taught stricter modesty in dress (which I had actually shied away from before, ironically). She’d gone back to wearing pants already, but was 100% supportive of my own decisions to dress “modestly.”
On a cold, January Sunday, I decided I needed to be baptized. Again. I was convinced, by then, that I wasn’t saved enough. Of course, I wanted to avoid that hellfire and brimstone that had already been instilled in me since childhood. I needed to be right, and follow the rules. Rules were comforting; rules helped me breathe.
I asked my mom if I could get baptized. She looked at me funny and said, “Alright. But you do know you’re already saved, right?” A church friend was with me at the time and we were about to head out the door. I froze, blood draining from my face. What if I told the truth- that I wasn’t saved, because I wasn’t baptized “correctly”? That the man dunking me in the water hadn’t uttered the right formula?
And so, I panicked. And… I lied. “I know.”
With that, I was released to rush from the house off to evening church service, where I donned a blue robe and entered the chilly baptismal water to have the right words said over me like some magic spell that would wash my sins away.
It was exactly a week later that I was praying fervently (for the millionth time) to receive the Holy Ghost. Now, to do this, it wasn’t simply reciting a prayer. You didn’t just talk to God, assuming He would hear and everything would be alright. No, my friend. You had to seek. Cry, wail, snot. Hands lifted to the ceiling, with the cacophony of praying people around you. My eyes were shut, I was hyper-focused.
“Please, God! Don’t let me die and go to hell!”
In my mind, I was no longer in the room, but standing at the base of a great, white, stone wall, with the heavens in the sky above, pleading with God. I poured out every single bit of energy I had into those moments. I was in a strange, dreamlike trance. People around me were laying hands on me, speaking things into my ear. The atmosphere was so intense, and I was so desperate, that I began to shake, my jaw shook, and I mumbled words. I was told that this was it- this was the Holy Ghost. I had been an empty, worthless sinner before, but now, after much travailing, I’d finally received God and I could start my journey. This was the way it was supposed to be…
…Right?
Things were a whirlwind after that. I flipped from normal(ish) teenager to being thrown into church life just about 24/7. Church service three times a week, with practices and other events in between. My church social life was so busy that I barely had time for my old, faithful friends, or even my family anymore (beyond caring for my younger siblings). My schoolwork started slipping. I joined the choir, the puppet team, sign language drama team—the works!
I still remember the finality of taking off my necklace for the last time in the church bathroom. It was go big or go home time. I got rid of “bad” music, cut up my jewelry so I wouldn’t be tempted to wear it anymore (kept the jewel part in a box as a “keepsake”). My hair was going to grow as long as it could and I was going to be a bare-faced angel from there on out. No necklines more than three fingers width below the collarbone, no one would ever witness my knees again. I was covered… and I was proud.
I’ll never forget one day, my mom came down the stairs, all prettied up for a date with my stepdad. I told her she had “eighty pounds of makeup on her face”. She got upset and went back upstairs to take it off. My stepdad scolded me for saying that (rightly so). I made a similar remark when a church friend got Glamour Shots taken and wore light makeup for the shoot. She looked beautiful, but I just had to zero in on that makeup. I became eagle-eyed for it. The smallest bit of mascara made someone a Jezebel.
Strict adherence to the rules made the pastor happy, and meant that I was “on fire” for God. In my mind, this was the right way. If I had any tempting thoughts about skirting the rules, I would be on my knees in the altar, repenting. I was determined to serve the LORD, and make it in that rapture!
But over time, that initial fire began to dim… and my storms returned. I was losing energy. Things were still not perfect at home. My stepmom criticized my new way of dressing. My stepdad got angry if I came home too late after an evening service. I had days were all I wanted to do was sleep and disappear into my books. Television was discouraged, so I tried to stick to listening to preaching tapes and reading theology books borrowed from the church library. I fed myself as much as possible with church doctrine. This dreadful emptiness had to be filled somehow. Surely it was my own fault- I wasn’t prayed up enough, doing enough, seeking enough?
In the church (we’ll call it Church A), at the time, mental health was not really talked about as such. Everything was mostly a spiritual problem. You’re burnt out on going to church 4-5 times a week? You’re just not prayed up enough. You need to be even more dedicated. You’re feeling sad? It’s a spirit. You need to be in the altar, seeking deliverance! Worry was seen as a sin (which didn’t help my anxiety).
So when my storms came on, fast and furious, I tried to hide it behind a smile and a joke, and grieve the sunshine in private. If pastor found out you were struggling, you might be pulled off platform for a while. They didn’t want anyone with a bad spirit on them “hindering the worship,” as if they might somehow send out negativity like dark waves through the sound system. If you didn’t pray hard thirty minutes before service, it was highly frowned upon.
Looking back on it now, it seems ludicrous. But the fear was real. For me, the fear of slipping up, of breaking a rule, had me suffocated. Because not only did it mean not pleasing people, it meant not pleasing God himself. And that meant hell.
Take all of this into consideration, and put it on the shoulders of a teenager, who’s already dealing with normal teenage emotions and changes. Anyone would struggle! And so many of the young people around me did. The rumor mills were constantly turning. Even those that were exalted as near-perfect wrestled in private, as I later found out. Put that kind of pressure on a developing mind, the results can be disastrous.
When you push rules, and not grace, cracks form. And those cracks can and will be filled by whatever seems promising at the time. Add in preexisting mental health and neuro-developmental differences, such as mine, it’s a perfect storm.
And little did I know just how big those storms would get.
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