Blogs

What happened at the Jim Berg protest

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on February 10, 2015.

A couple of weeks ago, I organized a protest group picketing Jim Berg’s “Christian Growth Bible Conference” at Grace Bible Church in Colorado Springs.

I’m a recently unsheltered homeschool kid.

Social justice was frowned upon.

When Martin Luther King Day rolled around or the civil rights movement came up, my parents said racism was wrong but the oppressed group should still respect the authority God placed over them, citing verses like 1 Tim. 2:1-3 and 1 Peter 2:13-15.

Funny how we ignored that little bit about Jesus cleansing the temple, telling off the Pharisees. Oh right, Jesus was an exception because he was God and his anger was righteous. We are but flawed humans, don’t you know.

Kind of like this tweet:

So my friends and I turned to social media and alerted the local TV and radio stations. 98.9 Magic FM interviewed me.

We gathered at the church with handmade cardboard signs around 6:30 pm, as the cars began to pile in.

One suburban pulled up and rolled down a window. “What does your sign say?” the driver asked.

I replied, “Berg blames victims.”

He looked confused. He answered, “For what?”

“For their rape,” I said. “Berg’s unethical counseling affected nearly 200-300 people over 30 years…”

He drove away.

But one couple approached us, said they wanted to hear the other side. They had never heard of Berg before the church announced the conference.

One of my friends handed them one of the flyers she made, with a QR code linking back to my blog.

They offered us water and asked honest questions before going in, and later read my blog post, sparking a discussion that left 17 comments.

Deacons from the church brought coffee and cookies. The others and I decided not to accept them, leaving a pointed note.

We left flyers on the parked cars, then decided to walk down the street to warm up before the conference let out.

Then a car pulled up.

A lady pulled up, asking for me. She said she’d driven several hours to come after a friend shared our social media posts with her. She said she was going to ask some questions.

And she hugged me. Really hugged me.

I told her this was the church that had shunned me two years ago.

She said she was once a fundamentalist, and was so sorry for what I had experienced. She held me and said, “This is not your Jesus,” and blessed me in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I wanted to cry.

I never thought I’d see anyone cross over from the other side, blessing me with healing.

Follow up comments on my blog and other social media were encouraging. We told people at the church who hadn’t been following Bob Jones in the news, who had no idea about the GRACE report and Berg’s involvement.

We broke through the silence.

Libby Anne recently reminded us that Bill Gothard was brought down by a blog, that blogging is a valid form of righting wrongs.

I want to continue these kinds of efforts, to see real change in churches and homeschool communities. Which is what my next series is about.

https://vine.co/v/OT3derFAr9P

Are you sure you aren’t exaggerating? | How we respond to homeschool abuse victims

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on February 16, 2015.

You just decided you had a terrible childhood after attending a liberal college, right? You got influenced by the Secular Humanism.

Actually…no.

I kept journals growing up.

Eleven of them, to be exact. Some were diaries, some were prayer journals.

  • Diary 1: August 1998 to December 2000
  • Diary 2: December 2000 to December 2010
  • Diary 3: June 2011 to September 2013
  • Prayer journal 1: December 2004 to November 2005
  • Prayer journal 2: November 2005 to April 2011
  • Prayer journal 3: April 2011 to August 2013

The other notebooks are a dream journal, a list of favorite Bible verses, a roster of people to pray for, and a journal filled with quotes and notes from family and friends.

Many times I was happy, or at least trying to be happy. I loved my family. Many times, I was not. And I wrote about it.

Here’s some excerpts.

October 31, 2002: “I feel like I’m always in trouble. I can’t seem to do anything right. I try my best. [….] I cry a lot at night because I have bottled up feelings all day and I need to let it out.”

November 1, 2002: “I feel like everyone’s pasttime is to make fun of me. [….] I can’t do anything right.”

January 4, 2003: “Will Mom ever understand how much her words hurt me? [….] Mom wasn’t any comfort. I wanted her to be, but she was harsh and unfeeling.”

After a spanking with the belt. I was 13.

January 20, 2003: “I am in trouble every day, or so it seems. My mom and dad are pleased every time I show them a good test grade […] but the pleasure doesn’t seem to last long. I am crying and I don’t know exactly why.”

September 30, 2004: “I wish Dad wanted to visit with people more. Oh, well. He does provide for us very well. I hope God will change Dad’s heart.”

A few years later, the entries get more detailed.

April 22, 2010: “I don’t understand why my family has so much emotional pain in it. I don’t feel like I can please Mom and Dad, [sister] doesn’t feel like she can please Mom and Dad, etc. Mom and Dad are so busy and so stressed that they are often not very loving towards us either.  [Sister] feels like there is a lot of hurt in our family and hides up in her room all the time. I don’t understand why we all aren’t nicer to each other and more understanding. There’s a lot of pain beneath the surface. Everyone suffers their own pain and can’t see everyone else’s. And no one helps anyone else. And Mom just gets angry and takes it the wrong way if I try to point out how she has hurt me or [sister]. No one is willing to help things change. I don’t understand. I have prayed about it for so long now. It never seems to get any better permanently. We just go through cycles of more and more pain. I am beginning to think God must be letting things go on like this for a reason. But then I wish it was just me who always had hidden hurt. [Sister] and [brother] are so young and malleable and hurt can affect the rest of their lives. Sometimes I feel like running away not coming back. But I feel like [sister] and [brother] need me, especially [sister]. I know she has a lot of pain inside, and I don’t know how to help her.”

May 20, 2010: “Still having a lot of the same issues. I realize that in some ways, I create my own problems, but there are other things beyond my control. I feel like Mom and Dad take me for granted. Since I did well my first semester, they sort of assume I will do well and don’t appreciate the work that goes into it. I am having very dark thoughts tonight. I often wish for death to end all the pain I have inside, but I know [sister] really needs me and that really keeps me going. I have vowed to Jesus that I will never commit suicide, and I mean by His grace to keep that vow. Life just hurts so much sometimes. I can’t stop crying right now. […] All my emotions get all bottled up in me these days.”

August 8, 2010: “I feel like I push myself really hard about school and all, but I never seem to do enough to meet Mom and Dad’s expectations. I don’t have very much time at all to do something fun, or just relax, which I think is kind of unhealthy. [….] It’s not wrong to rest – Jesus even called the disciples aside to rest. I sort of think maybe my family doesn’t know how to rest.”

My prayer journals are less honest, but I was always praying to be less prideful and depressed and more submissive, better able to accept unfairness in life, because Jesus suffered more than I ever could.

It’s painful to revisit, like a giant headache.

And this is another reason why I left fundamentalism.

I was always writing and scrapbooking, trying to capture my life. I don’t know why. Maybe I knew I’d need it later.

But as Shaney Lee argued this past week on Ryan Stollar’s blog, please believe us when we tell you our past still hurts. Not everyone documents their pain. But that doesn’t make it less real.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere A Sign

“Signs, signs, everywhere a sign….” Remember this old song? (I took the liberty of adding an s.) In some churches it is all about signs. Seeking signs. Desiring signs. Disappointed if there are no signs. It’s not a good service if there are no signs. What is the next sign going to be? I want something more!

This mindset is not good. Jesus and the apostles warn us against desiring and following after signs. Yet despite these warnings, what do we see in some churches but people flocking after the next big sign.

You can hear the circus barker, “Step right up, folks! See the spectacular! The unbelievable! Watch jewels suddenly appear before your eyes! Gold dust fills the air! People fall at the wave of a hand! Come on in and marvel at the sight!”

Gold. It came in the form of dust, fillings and entire teeth. Angel feathers. Jewels. Laughter. Falling out. Oil. Spiritual drunkenness. Slain. The list goes on as people line up and get carried away by every wind.

People are drawn to the spectacular. We want to see amazing things. Why would the people in Jesus’ days be reprimanded for seeking signs? This is why we have so many problems in the churches which focus on emotionalism. We want gold fillings. Then gold dust. Then we want to see pulpits broken in half or people shaking uncontrollably in and out of services. There’s always a search for more and more, bigger and better.

Who is getting all the attention in these things? Does the focus come on a person or people, the pastor, the church? If God is going to do something miraculous, HE would be getting the glory and the attention, with the result of people turning to Him. In the New Testament, miracles happened to confirm the Gospel being preached and the apostles didn’t run after or focus on them.

Oftentimes things like these help fill up someone’s wallet, be that the pastor’s, evangelist’s and/or the church fund. The love of money causes many to do things which they ought not do.

What happens at the places where these things occur? Is all the talk and emphasis now on the “move”? Do they lose a focus of preaching the Gospel? How is their teaching being distorted by these signs? Does the emphasis become that of experiences trumping Scripture? (It has to be true or of God because it happened in church and look how many are at the church! Because it makes me excited and I feel good! I know that isn’t in the Bible, but God can do anything, can’t He?) The dismissal of Scripture is a serious thing in these “moves.” Experience is placed above it and the Bible gets interpreted through the experiences and not the other way around.

What’s the fruit of it all? Why would God perform such acts? What does gold teeth or gold dust mean to Him? Does He really focus on these material things? Would he really leave jewels laying around at a church? Really? Where do we see anything similar happening in the biblical accounts of the early Church?

Stop and think about it. Why would God go around indiscriminately distributing gold teeth in people’s mouths? It makes no sense. People need emotional healing, physical healing, but hey- they got a gold tooth instead.

When your parents stalk you

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on March 2, 2015.

Stalking is usually applied to a romantic relationship gone bad.

This is why people hesitate to believe me when I say I’ve been stalked by my parents.

After I moved out, my parents showed up unannounced at work or on campus, asking me to reconsider and go to Bob Jones University. The first time it happened, I was walking down the sidewalk to visit a new church since I had no car.  A car drove up behind me honking, my family rolled down the windows, shouting, “Just remember, Bob Jones is still available!”

They often bring gifts: sandwiches, keychains, homemade soup. They seem to think this proves they are good parents. They say this is how they show me they love me.   The professor who was my supervisor when I tutored on campus saw them do this. He said their behavior was abnormal, intended to wear me down and make me give in.

I’m not the only one. Other homeschool alum have had parents drop off identifying documents at work without asking, another told me her mom found her between classes and gave her a gift card and sent a sheet and towel to her apartment. She hadn’t told her mom her class schedule or her address.

I don’t know what their motivation is.

Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe they think I’ll be brought back into the fold with organic baked goods.

This is how my parents demonstrate that they love me.

My first apartment was unfortunately near the church that shunned me. My parents drove by often to look for my car, texting me “did you sleep at your apartment last night?” I explained my roommate and her boyfriend invited me for a movie night and I slept there. My mom told me it was inappropriate to sleep at a single guy’s place. Never mind that we had a couple of drinks during the movie and I wasn’t safe to drive.

Being honest and open about my decisions only provoked criticism. And they wondered why I stopped telling them things.

In summer 2013, my dad parked outside the nearest stop sign when he knew I would get off work. When I drove by, he jumped out in front of my car so I had to stop. He wanted to change the air filter in my car. He didn’t understand I was startled and angry, that I was afraid I could have hit him.

My parents barged into the middle of a staff meeting for the student newspaper in fall 2013, handing me a parking permit. My dad didn’t wait for me to buy one myself.

I told them I thought their actions were inappropriate in group counseling.

I wrote, “If anyone else who I wasn’t related to followed me around the way you guys do (leaving me random sermon CDs in my bicycle bag when I’m in class, etc), it would be considered really creepy and stalking. Think about it.”

My mom replied, “I do not think it is creepy if we are coming by UCCS from a doctor’s appt., and leave a gift for you in your bicycle sidebag. Sorry you took it that way. We are not checking up on you.”

Last October, my dad showed up at my apartment around 7:30 am, calling me over and over during an exam. He was upset that I didn’t answer right away. He wanted to trade out cars because he was afraid I wouldn’t get maintenance done, even though I’d asked him to let me learn how to take care of my car myself.

And they showed up at my work again last weekend, asked a coworker on his smoke break to bring me a package.

They don’t understand acting like this makes me feel incapacitated.

Fundamentalism doesn’t teach consent, it teaches you to respect authority. Control is normal, so you should be grateful for what they do, even if they don’t respect your wishes.

I don’t feel like an adult when my parents do this. I start to feel like a powerless small child whose parents are always going to check up on her, like all my independence has been taken away from me.

They think this is how to show me that they love me, but I just feel the walls close in.

And I don’t think this is love.

Missing the mark: Exploring the meaning of ‘sin’ beyond fundamentalism

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on November 9, 2014.

I cry, Father, Father, forgive me
You say, Child, I already have.
– Joy Williams, Beautiful Redemption

I pulled back on the bowstring, my arm trembling to hold it taut.

My friend Ashley gave me pointers from the other side of the archery pit.

“Pull your finger back before you release so the arrow doesn’t catch.”

“Aim a bit to the other side and higher.”

Steel slipped between my two hands, out and away through the crisp November dusk. The arrow struck the hay bale near orange spray paint.

“Hey! That one wasn’t bad!” I said, extracting the arrow from the netting.

Using a bow and arrow involves rewiring neural connections to tune hand-eye coordination. Which takes repetition. I still miss, mostly.

Living requires the same dedication. I mess up every day, missing a deadline, saying the wrong thing.

But, as my friend Elraen often says, you are not what you do.

Modern church has many sermons and worship choruses about sin and sinners. We’re told from an early age that “we have all sinned, and come short of the glory of God,” as part of the Romans Road.

But cultural connotations are lost in language translation, because Koine Greek and Hebrew have evolved into modern forms.

In my two semesters of Koine Greek this year, I discovered the original meaning of “sin.” The word is ἁμαρτία, pronounced “hamartia” and means “to miss the mark,” specifically in archery. Basically, a mistake. Sinner is ἁμαρτωλός: a poor marksman or mistake-maker.

But our American culture has no physical reference for the word. So we’ve made it a state of being. Pretty much since the word came into the English language.

In the opening paragraphs of A Christmas Carol, Dickens uses it to describe Ebenezer Scrooge:

“Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!”

And Shakespeare does it, although Elizabethan England lacks the rigid sanctimoniousness of Victorian society:

“Those healths will make thee and thy state
look ill, Timon. Here’s that which is too weak to
be a sinner, honest water, which ne’er left man i’ the mire”
(Apemantus, in Timon of Athens – Act 1, Scene 2)

“Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a
double-dealer: there’s another.”
(Duke Orsino, Twelfth Night – Act 5, Scene 1)

English usage often links sinner with a “be” verb, making “sinner” a label, a title. Like an occupation. The word becomes an identifier, it sticks to us.

Guess who else liked to use “sinner” to label people? The Pharisees.

The Gospels contain 30 total references to “sinner.”

Five of them are used by the gospel writers (Matthew 9:10, Mark 2:15, Mark 2:16, Luke 7:37, Luke 15:1).

Eight times, the Pharisees point out specific people they do not approve of (twice calling Jesus a sinner). (Matthew 9:11, Mark 2:16, Luke 5:30, Luke 7:39, Luke 15:2, Luke 19:7, John 9:16, John 9:24)

Jesus uses the word 14 times, five in direct response to the Pharisee’s accusations (Matthew 9:13, Matthew 11:19, Mark 2:17, Luke 5:32, Luke 7:34), seven in talking to the disciples, often opposing some Pharisaical idea (Luke 6:32, Luke 6:33, twice in Luke 6:34, Luke 13:2, Luke 15:7, Luke 15:10), and twice when being betrayed, ironically, to the Pharisees (“into the hands of sinners,” Matthew 26:45, Mark 14:41).

Then one mention by the repentant tax collector (Luke 18:13) and twice from a healed blind man (John 9:25, John 9:31).

I get the sense that Jesus didn’t like to label people, because his conversations with the Pharisees usually go something like this:

Pharisees: “WHY ARE YOU HANGING OUT WITH /SINNERS/?”
Jesus: “Um…because I came for sinners?”

And the Pharisees don’t recognize that sometimes, they are also mark-missers.

The Gospels mention “sin” 126 times total (Matthew: 32, Mark: 21, Luke: 45, John: 28). Just the action. And those verses have new connotations for me, too.

“If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.” (Matthew 18:15, ESV). Oh. So, if my friend misses the mark in our friendship, if I am hurt, I should tell him directly.

Humans hurt and disappoint each other every day. Sometimes missing the mark can be overcome with practice, behavior patterns can be altered.

Other times a mistake is serious or even fatal. My aim in the archery pit isn’t the sum of my identity, but a misfired arrow can wound.

Maybe that’s what Jesus’ redemption is about – he makes it so our mistakes no longer define us, so we stop attaching the name “sinner” to ourselves. The labels peel off like a used “hello my name is” sticker, and I am free.

But he saw through my labels all along.

Click to access the login or register cheese
YouTube
YouTube
Set Youtube Channel ID
x  Powerful Protection for WordPress, from Shield Security
This Site Is Protected By
ShieldPRO