This is the twenty-ninth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism is a clip from a sermon preached by OneChristianVoice.
A guest post by Anonymous
As a good evangelical, I never believed in purgatory; that is until this year when I decided that I was already living there. I don’t mean in a religious sense, but rather in the sense that I am in neither one place nor the other.
For reasons I will come to, I have all but lost my faith. But, since I have a lovely wife and good friends who are Christians, I will never really be able to walk away.
I have read a few blogs written by former Christians. Nearly all of them are written by American ex-Christians. I am from the UK, and I believe that there are a number of cultural differences between churches in the UK and America. There are many flavours of Christianity, so I can’t really generalise, but what I do know is that my experience differs from that of many of people who have lost their faith. In America, it is more culturally acceptable to be an evangelical Christian — especially in the Bible belt where being a good citizen requires regular church attendance and voting Republican. My experiences in the UK, however, have been different. We don’t have a religious right, and evangelical Christians are quite rare. I didn’t knowingly meet an evangelical (Reformed) Christian until I was nineteen! In the UK, evangelicals stand out from the crowd and are a bit weird. When I first accepted the doctrine of eternal punishment in hell I was nineteen. I remember thinking, at the time, I have become a religious extremist. No one at my high school, not even the school chaplain, believed in hell!
I became an evangelical at university, having been a liberal Anglican throughout my teens. That was ten years ago. It was meeting Christians my own age who were practicing what they preached that made me take notice. Many people lose their faith and look back and criticize, very rightly, the churches they were part of. But I can honestly say that my experiences with Christians have only been positive. I love the churches I have been part of. They are full of loving, kind, generous, and self-sacrificing people. Of course, they have faults, but doesn’t everyone? I think that the best apologetic for Christianity is the church. ‘If you want your friends to know Jesus, get them to come to a church BBQ and they will see from the way Christians live and act towards each other that they have something special!’ I haven’t become disillusioned with the church — I still love the church. So what went wrong?
When I started attending an evangelical church — the church was Anglican but agreed wholeheartedly with the Westminster confession — at university I was amazed by how seriously they took the Bible. I liked the fact that they taught each passage in context, teaching congregants what the Biblical text meant for first century readers before explaining how it was applicable for us today. I liked that they used reason to understand what the Bible meant. All their beliefs were backed up by God’s word. They didn’t take a rigid, literal view, allowing texts such as Genesis or apocalyptic texts to speak, in context, for themselves. This church did not approve of visions and promptings from God. I had attended other churches in my teens where they believed God was supposed to speak to us while we closed our eyes. This church taught me that God speaks clearly to us through the Bible.
It was this supposedly solid biblical foundation that led to my undoing. My respect for the Bible led me to read it very closely and carefully. As I continued to read, I began questioning reformed interpretations of Paul’s writings. For those interested, look up James Dunn or N.T. Wright and the New Perspective on Paul. My questions didn’t make me doubt God or the Bible — only certain reformed interpretations.
This year I began to look closely at textual contradictions and passages that didn’t make sense. How did Judas die? How do you explain that Matthew seemed to think that Jesus would come back soon after AD 70? How do you explain that key doctrines developed over time?
I also began to hate — and I mean really hate — the idea of hell. I can accept that I am not perfect and that a perfect God would be right to punish evil. But, to punish someone for ever and ever and ever in a special resurrected body that has been given to them for that very purpose is sick! If the Bible clearly taught this from beginning to end I might accept it even if I didn’t like it. But, from my studies of the Bible, I can say for certain that hell is not taught in the Pentateuch. The idea of hell evolved over time and is only found in the books written after the Jewish exile. God doesn’t speak clearly in the Bible. It is a wonderful mix of different and contradictory voices — voices of men, not God.
Upon hearing of my doubts, Evangelicals tell me I just need to believe. Have faith. It doesn’t matter about the details. But this is not what they taught me! I was taught to do detailed exegesis, working out what the text means. That is the evangelical way, is it not? I have done the exegesis and I now agree with scholars like Bart Ehrman, Geza Vermes and Christine Hayes when say the text is not historically reliable. Evangelical hypocrisy is revealed when people closely study the bible and conclude the bible has contradictions. Such people are told: you are being too intellectual! You are sitting in judgement over God’s word. Isn’t that what Evangelical pastors do every Sunday? Every time you decide what you think the text is saying you are sitting in judgement of it!
So where does this leave me? I both love and hate Christianity and the Bible. I love Christians and I love the Bible as a rich literary text that gives us an insight into the development of the thoughts that have shaped western civilisation. But, at the same time I hate Christianity and the Bible. I hate the fact that because I disagree with the notion that the Bible is true that people will tell me that I am rebelling against God. I hate that people believe that hell is real and dedicate their lives to warning people about this. I hate that because of what the New Testament says my close friends and family will from now on regard me as being under the power of Satan. I hate that my wife will be devastated that I am ‘damned’ and disappointed that I won’t be able to be the spiritual head of our home. It is for these reasons I haven’t completely come out. The weird thing is that in the UK the vast majority of people think Christianity is mumbo jumbo. I just happen to be very close to people who make up the small minority that think the Bible is true. My change of heart will deeply affect my relationships with those I am closest to.
And I hate that despite all the evidence I will always have a nagging doubt that I might be wrong. And that on the last day I will have some explaining to do. For these reasons I think the rest of my life will be pretty miserable. Thanks Jesus.
This is the twenty-eighth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism is a clip from a sermon preached by Suzanne Hinn, wife of fake healer Benny Hinn.
This is the twenty-seventh installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism is a clip taken from a sermon preached by Independent Fundamentalist Baptist Evangelist Phil Kidd.
This is the twenty-sixth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism is a clip from a sermon preached by Independent Fundamentalist Baptist Steven Anderson, pastor of Faithful Word Baptist Church in Tempe, Arizona.
This is the twenty-fifth installment in The Sounds of Fundamentalism series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a video clip that shows the crazy, cantankerous, or contradictory side of Evangelical Christianity, please send me an email with the name or link to the video. Please do not leave suggestions in the comment section. Let’s have some fun!
Today’s Sound of Fundamentalism is a clip of a sermon preached by John MacArthur, pastor of Grace Community Church, Sun Valley, California.
Guest post by Dane Fletcher (pseudonym)
Christians play the theory of intelligent design like a philosophical checkmate. It’s chronic actually. Like chest-thumping silverbacks theistic ideologues in my corner of the cosmos swear that “design science” steals the origins debate.
I’ve been a committed, evangelical believer for over forty years. (I’m no outsider just hurling rhetorical stones.) The last ten years I’ve been a full-time pastor. And in that time I’ve found that us fundamentalist types worship our theological certainties nearly as much as we do our God.
And when we’re not worshiping them we’re wielding them like some kind of sacred bludgeon — but I digress.
I’ve seen it! (And done it.)
Christian Pep Rallies
On any given Sunday evangelical leaders will trot out their design science experts to cacophonous “Amen!” choruses. I’ve witnessed the committed masses nearly swoon over Ben Stein’s Expelled. Bring in apologist hero de jour, Michael Behe, and you’ll pack the place.
It’s preaching to the choir at best.
Believers already buy into the arguments; they’re sold. Further, in my experience these events have little to do with education or with understanding the relevant arguments.
They’re about confirmation. They’re about reinforcing what the conservative, evangelical faithful already believe.
They’re Christian pep rallies more than they are honest, scientific inquiries. I’m not mocking. I sympathize with the creationist mindset that undergirds the fundamentalist’s faith.
In fact, I know it very well.
Everywhere I Looked
As an evangelical believer I saw God — everywhere. (My version of God, of course.) Every time I felt small under a starry sky I just “knew” God was there. Every time I trembled at the majesty of a lightning flash; every time I stood silenced by a roaring ocean; every time I cradled an infant or marveled at a sunset—everywhere I looked — I saw convincing evidence for God…for my God.
I suspect I’m not alone.
Even the garden-variety Christian snobbishly contends that her 21st century, fundamentalist, evangelical, contemporary-pop, western, Judeo-Christian version of the creator is the only game in town.
Even more, she’s certain that just about everything she sees proves it. It’s a lesson in confirmation bias for sure. (But that’s a post for another day.)
Here’s the problem: every religion that boasts a creation story believes the same thing! Every sycophant that stumps for a creator — any creator — is certain the existence of the universe proves her highly specialized version of God.
Everyone observes the same universe, but…
Christians think, “Jesus did it!”
Jews believe, “Jehovah did it!”
Muslims insist, “It was Allah!”
And on, and on, and on…
Which Creator?
Same universe, same evidence — opposing creators. Every believer interprets the evidence through the tinged-with-bias lens of their peculiar religion. As such, we see what we want to see. We see what we expect to see.
We see our rendition of a creator.
And why not? I mean, what gives Christian fundies the keys to the kingdom? If Christians can claim the cosmos as proof — why can’t the competition? In the end, however, every religion has as much proof that their specific god(s) created everything as do aliens from another galaxy.
None.
The universe bears no particular authorial stamp. But that doesn’t stop the faithful. They’ll argue their pet theory as if the Almighty himself signed the cosmos like some celestial da Vinci signing the Mona Lisa.
For many of the faithful, this is a new thought. (And it’s a risky thought.) If the seeming design of the cosmos isn’t proof of any specific deity the entire Intelligent Design argument is moot…at least as it relates to validating any specific god(s).
The Missing Link
So, what’s the naughty little secret? What’s intelligent design’s missing link? It’s simply this: Whatever intelligent design may prove — it does not prove enough.
Believers image that it does — but it doesn’t.
It’s smoke and mirrors for sure. Maybe those in the know we’re hoping nobody would notice that their precious intelligent design argument is a few bricks shy of a full load.
Some Christians are so certain that the intricacy of the universe validates their version of God that even suggesting otherwise is like denying gravity.
But here’s the thing…even if it’s true, even if we concede that the existence of the universe sufficiently validates the notion of intelligent design, what does it prove? (It could be used to prove a lot, I suppose.) What it does not prove, however, is that the God of Christianity is the designer.
To get from proving intelligent design to proving the specific identity of the designer(s) the believer must supply several missing links. Proving intelligent design just does not prove evangelicalism’s (or any other isms for that matter) version of God.
When I first admitted this it was a game-changer.
I had to confess that many of the proofs I used to validate my faith were no proof at all. And as far as specific religions go… the design argument equally validates every one of them that claims a creator.
It devastated me when I realized that I could no longer count on the universe to validate my faith. With all of its intricacy, beauty and wonder, I had to admit that I could not consistently and honestly claim the cosmos as proof of my God.
I realized that I had one set of rules with which I judged my faith and a different, stricter set with which I judged all others. How could I consistently claim the cosmos as my God’s handiwork when I had no more evidence of the fact than anyone else?
I couldn’t.
These days, I’m learning to write my “beliefs” in pencil rather than etching them in stone. Have your own experience or opinion? — please, share it. Give someone else the opportunity to think a new thought!
Thanks for reading!
Guest post by Neil. You can read Neil’s writing at Rejecting Jesus.
I didn’t reject my faith so that I could wallow in sin (though I do like a good wallow now and then). I didn’t turn away from Christianity as an act of rebellion against God, nor did I give it up so I could set myself up as Lord of my own life (though why that would be a bad thing, I’m not sure).
Christians like to tell me that these are the reasons I became apostate, but of course they’re not. Rather, I’d become aware that there’s no such thing as ‘sin’. Sin is a peculiarly religious invention with no traction in the real world; there’s only human behavior. I had reached a point where I understood there was no God, certainly not the Christian version and it follows you can’t rebel against something that doesn’t exist, nor, indeed, can you set yourself up as it.
Instead, I’d taken a long hard look at the claims of Christianity and in particular what the Bible had to say about Jesus. I asked myself:
Some might have done so, but by and large, no, we didn’t. We couldn’t even manage not to judge in case we were judged in return. No-one I knew or heard preach or even read about did any of the things Jesus commanded.
I could only conclude that this was because a) Jesus’ expectations were far too demanding and b) Christians don’t believe in him anyway. They may think they do – they like what he appears to say about marriage when they’re up for a little gay-bashing – but really they’re only interested in Paul’s ‘Christ’. Christ, the mythologized version of Jesus, gives them a buzz and – extra bonus – doesn’t expect too much of them. They can even carry on with the gay-bashing if they want. But Jesus? Him they don’t want to know – he’s too demanding, too extreme, too dead.
Every time, then, Jesus came up lacking: his promises were hollow, his prophecies unfulfilled, his morality impossible and his miracles and resurrection more than unlikely. Reason, experience and evidence told me that Jesus as we have him in the gospels is nothing more than the creation of a credulous age; his alter-ego, ‘the Christ’, even more so. Once I realized this – once I had this revelation, my very own deconversion experience – I was free. Free to live my life, to think for myself and be who I am. I recommend it to you; let the self-evident truth that faith is nothing more than self-delusion set you free too.
I am convinced that many Evangelical pastors and churches don’t have a clue about the perceived disconnect between what they preach and what they actually do. Take the story of Dennis Erickson, a member of Celebration Church in Lakeville, Minnesota, who died and left his entire estate to the church. In a recent sermon on generosity, Celebration Church pastor Derrick Ross told the congregation, “The Bible says that generosity is also like that, that it will enlarge your world.” Ross said, “generosity will enlarge your world,” yet when asked what the church would do with the proceeds of Erickson’s estate, Ross said the church would build more classrooms and expand its school. Ross proudly crowed, “One year later, his (Erickson’s) impact will be visible from the road.”
Erickson was a lifelong collector of antique and model cars. CBS News reports:
It’s hard not to be overwhelmed seeing, for the first time, all the model cars, trucks, tractors and buses Erickson collected for six decades, ever since he was 9 years old.
There are more than 32,000, believed to be one of the largest private collections in the world. Some are no bigger than an inch long, but together they are quite the treasure.
The 69-year-old engineer designed cabinets and cases to showcase the collection, which he parked in the living room, bathroom, laundry room, closets, basement and even in the bedrooms.
….
And Erickson’s devotion runneth over, filling his two garages — five preserved classics, including a 1959 Edsel and Henry Ford’s second mechanical marvel, the 1931 Ford Model A. Erickson would enter these beauties in car shows with his father.
….
The collection’s likely mid-six-figure price tag will make it possible to build more classrooms at the church and expand its school. Pastor Ross said the congregation has doubled in size in the past nine months.
Erickson, a devoted Evangelical church member, spent 60 years of his life collecting “stuff.” People are certainly free to live their lives as they wish. I am not a collector, so I don’t understand the satisfaction people derive from collecting things. That said, I am sure the things that matter to me might not matter to others. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. That’s the beauty of human existence; we are free to do what we want. However, when Pastor Ross attempts to put a religious spin on Erickson’s $500,000 bequest of model cars, well, it is fair to ask how Ross squares a life spent collecting cars with what Jesus said about material possessions.
Jesus said in Luke 12:15:
And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.
Surely the sum of Erickson’s life consisted of the abundance of things he possessed — model and antique cars.
Ross and Erickson’s Savior also said in Matthew 6:19-21:
Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
I would love to see how Pastor Ross squares these verses with how Erickson lived his life. Again, I don’t care about how Erickson spent his 69 years of life on this earth. Collect, not collect, it matters not. However, when stories such as this are billed as a marvelous example of generosity that will make a real difference in the world, I think it is reasonable for people to question in what way a difference is being made.
I suspect that Celebration Church could have used the money to meet the needs of the widows, orphans, the sick, the poor, and the disenfranchised. If a church desires to follow in the steps of Jesus, shouldn’t it focus on those with the greatest needs? Instead, the Church decided to enlarge its building. Since Evangelical churches are by and large social clubs, Erickson’s donation will benefit, not the community at large, but his fellow club members. Of course, spending the money on community social needs would not leave a monument to Erickson’s largess, nor would it result in more asses in the pews of Celebration.
Perhaps part of the issue is that Celebration is located in an area where poverty is not an issue. According to Wikipedia, only two percent of families in Lakeville, Minnesota are at or below the poverty line. However, all the Church would need to do is expand their vision to nearby St. Paul which has a 24% poverty rate.
Celebration Church was founded in 1996 by well-known Evangelical pastor and musician Lowell Lundstrom. Under Lundstrom’s leadership, Celebration Church hosted annual “Country Christmas” shows. Sun This Week described the shows as follows:
The church became a popular destination for tourists from around the country for its huge “Country Christmas” productions.
Its multiple live shows drew crowds by offering patrons a Branson-styled production that included a mix of Christmas songs, both secular and religious, complete with costumes, dancers, comedians, steppers, singers and musicians.
Lowell Lundstrom and his wife Connie Lundstrom sometimes ended the show by waving to the crowd as they and other family members traveled in a horse-drawn sleigh across the stage.
Just what Jesus would have done, right?
Perhaps I am expecting too much from Pastor Ross and the people of Celebration Church. According to a 2014 Sun This Week article, the church is looking for ways to make a “difference” in the community. Here’s the examples the article gave:
Under his(Lowell Lunstrom) daughter’s leadership, the church last year hosted “The 99,” a massive tent theater production intended to portray real consequences of deadly behaviors before presenting a gospel message; the elaborate production required hundreds of volunteers from the church.
….
Londa Lundstrom Ramsey (former pastor who abruptly resigned due to charges of financial irregularities by her pastor husband Brent) appeared before the Lakeville City Council on Aug. 4 to accept recognition for the church’s agreement to dedicate $20,000 over the next four years for a DARTS program in the city that provides transportation to seniors.
From the stories highlighted in this post, we can conclude that Celebration Church’s idea of making a meaningful difference in the community is:
According to an October 2014 Sun This Week article, pastor Londa Lundstrom Ramsey and her husband Brent abruptly resigned over charges of financial impropriety. The Lunstrom’s deny these charges and have picked up their toys and moved nine minutes down the road to start a new church, The Father’s House. According to the aforementioned news article, Celebration Church averages 900 in attendance. While it took me a bit of time to find the seating capacity of Celebration Church, I did stumble upon a conference page that stated the auditorium could seat 1,000 people. I suspect, thanks to the Lundstrom’s bolting and starting a new church a few miles away, that average church attendance is now less than 900. When a pastor feels “God’s leading” to start a new church near her previous church, the new testimony to the factional nature of Evangelical Christianity will siphon off members from the old church. Sometimes, hundreds of people can switch pews, resulting in tremendous financial pressures for the old church. My gut tells me that all is not well at Celebration Church. What better way to take congregants minds off reduced attendance and accusations of financial improprieties than to add unneeded space to the church building. New “stuff” excites saint and sinner alike, and Erickson’s donation being used to enlarge Celebration’s church plant will certainty create a buzz. But alas, as with all buzzes, the new building buzz will fade, and what will remain is a troubled church with a nearby predator who is ready and willing to swallow them alive. Or as I like to call it, just another day in the alternate universe called Evangelical Christianity.
While I am sure Pastor Ross, Celebration Church, Pastor Londa Lundstrom Ramsey, and The Father’s House will likely object to how I have characterized matters in this post, I think I have accurately stated what can be gleaned through news reports and internet sleuthing. I have no objection to how Celebration Church plans to use the monies derived from the sale of Erickson estate. What I do object to is Pastor Ross painting what the church will do with the money as something that will make a meaningful difference in the world. While having new digs will certainly make the congregation happy and give them a delusional sense of doing something “important,” the fact remains that this building program will do very little to make a difference in the lives of the people who suffer in silence outside the doors of Celebration Church. Perhaps Pastor Ross — as planned — will restart the Country Christmas gala. And then church members can seek out the poor and homeless and give them tickets to the big show. Woo! Hoo! Hungry, hurting, and alone they will remain, but at least they will get to see a horse-drawn sleigh as it slowly traverses the stage. I am sure Jesus — if he were still alive — would be proud.
Guest Post by Calulu
Tom Hauser is the pastor of Global River Church in Wilmington, North Carolina. Global River is affiliated with Bill Johnson and Bethel Redding. I have written previously about Bethel Redding in a post titled Bethel Redding: A Dangerous Evangelical Cult.
Dear Tom,
I know there’s no way you would remember me. I’m just some random woman at one of the churches in Virginia that held a deliverance ministry weekend taught by you and the members of your church many years ago. I’m the one who our overbearing pastor’s wife forced to make all those fancy half round flags for your church as a gift from our church. I’m still several hundred dollars out-of-pocket for the materials, and I’m still annoyed at that even if you had nothing to do with it.
You and your church pushed the deliverance ministry that your church did, telling tales of people set free from all sorts of weird demonic infestations. Your goal was to get people to sign up to come to your church — Vineyard, in Wilmington, North Carolina.
During that weekend I had the chance to speak to you several times. I found that I liked you. Maybe it was the fact that you walked away from a high dollar career to preach, I don’t know. You are personable.
But, I know you don’t have a clue about the damage you and your fellow church members do. I suspect, seeing that the name of your church and the deliverance ministry has been changed more than once, that you have some small inkling that others think it sucks. Did you guys get sued by those you victimized while pretending they are demon-addled and need an exorcism? Something obviously happened.
For my husband and I, the damage was limited. We just lost some time, hotel and gas money, and spending time with our family for Thanksgiving. I feel pretty certain that your deliverance ministry likely did lots of damage, wreaked havoc, and destroyed marriages and few families. Let me explain why I think your deliverance ministry — that you now call a ‘prayer ministry’ at your renamed church, Global River Church — is a bad thing.
You preyed on my husband who was going through a long, horrible depression. Thanks to competent doctors, medical tests and therapy, we know his entire problem was that he had cancerous tumors on his parathyroid glands. He wasn’t under spiritual oppression, nor did he lack faith. He wasn’t filled with demons and in need of deliverance ministry. He was sick. With cancer that would have killed him if we hadn’t tossed aside the compete and utter bullshit that the church was saying and sought legitimate medical treatment.
Jim told me a few days before Thanksgiving in November of 2005 that he had scheduled a weekend deliverance that weekend, that you had arranged for a team of deliverance-ministry trained staff to remove our evil spirits and cleanse us. This meant that we had to abandon our children to others for the holiday, make the long drive from Northern Virginia to Wilmington North Carolina, and stay at a local hotel for several nights while the deliverance was going on.
I remember how angry I was, because even while at that time I was still a hard-core believer, I didn’t believe in what you guys did or your claims of demonic infestation. I was angry at the ruined holiday, angry I could not be with my kids, and angry that you insisted that I take part in the deliverance ministry too. Jim was told that you wouldn’t help one spouse without de-demonizing the other. I wanted no part of it.
One of my clearest memories of that weekend was waking up at 3 am on the Saturday morning before the first sessions. I felt fearful and angry, and l was suffering from extreme pain in my right arm due to an injury I was waiting to have surgery on. I sat in that ocean front hotel room, contemplating the Atlantic ocean in the moonlight while listening to praise music on my iPod, waiting for opioid pain medication to kick in. I wondered what the day would bring.
What the day brought was us being met at your church by the deliverance team. Jim and I were separated, and the sessions started. I wasn’t in Jim’s session so I can only imagine what happened. For mine, I was confronted quite starkly over things the two ‘counselors’ had received from God during their prayer time that week. The information that the women claimed to have heard from the Lord was wrong on so many things. They told me I was having an affair with someone named ‘Walt’, which made me laugh because, at the time, the only Walt’s I had heard of were Walt Whitman and Jim Walter Homes — a dead man and a corporation. No, I was not and have never had an affair.
I was also told that my husband was having an affair — again not true. I don’t know much, but I know that about him. He’s not the type, and he didn’t have enough downtime with his commute into DC on public transportation to have an affair.
Imagine how such false revelations might have affected a married couple having problems? We both were told this and neither of us believed it about the other person. If someone in a shaky relationship was told an outrageous lie like that, it would have blown apart their marriage. Somehow, I don’t think any of this is something Jesus would approve of.
The personal details and ‘problems’ listed on both of our prayer sheets were beyond wrong, right down to the smallest details. For example, Jim was told he loves ‘Star Wars’ and fishing, both of which he hates. I was also told Jim had a ‘demon of rage’ in him that would physically kill me if they didn’t exorcise it from him.
The women attempting to ‘deliver’ me gave up after about two and a half hours, realizing that I was highly skeptical, thought their words of knowledge were ridiculous, and I was not cooperating like they wanted. I was told by the staff to go back to the hotel and wait for a phone call to come back and pick up my husband. He was held and brainwashed a total of nine hours. Ten years later, he still hasn’t told me what happened during his session. I do know that when I picked him up he clung to me and would not let go for many days (either holding my hand or hugging me).
We went home; it was anti-climatic by that point. We spoke very little about what had happened and things continued as normal until the point Jim was diagnosed with parathyroid cancer and had the first of several surgeries.
I get it. You somehow think you are ‘helping’ people by doing this type of prayer and deliverance ministry. But you’re not. You are, at best, confusing people, and at worst blowing up homes and families and/or causing people with serious medical conditions to die because they believe their conditions are demonic. You take advantage of desperate people.
Calulu
