The Cult in My Life

The front cover of Fudge's text on Oneness Pentecostalism


Last Tuesday night our family celebrated a birthday at McDonald's and I ran into a beloved neighbor of mine, again. For anonymity I will call her "Jan." I haven't seen Jan for a few months. I was so pleased. She is the mother of five grown children, the youngest being 19 and the oldest I imagine is my age, give or take. Last time Jan and I were together at the grocery store it took God bumping us in each other's presence several times before we talked, but this time she flagged me down and invited me to meet one of her daughters, "Lauren," I had thus far not met. Lauren was visiting from out of town. Apparently Jan is troubled that she has decided not to return to the church in which she was raised.

The subject of our conversation changed. The youngest daughter, 19, is the one I know best; "Cindy." I wanted to know how she was doing. So we talked for some time.

I reminisce.

Cindy has not willingly spoken to me in... maybe four years. Though, believe it or not, I see Cindy, and she me, almost every day. She was 15 when I first met her; I was 26. She came to my door because of a fundraiser and she started telling me about her beliefs, quoting scripture, telling me that she didn't believe in the Trinity. I was impressed nonetheless and told her how amazing she was! She was so excited to have me meet the rest of her family. She wanted me to come to her church with her. She was so proud having invited me, when I was so engaged with many members of her church over the truths of the scriptures.

After some time of participating with them all, I bowed out. Long story. Since then, she still walks the same path home from school every day, and every day I pass her in my car on my way to get my kids. But she wants to pretend like I don't exist.

And so we play this game of body language. It's all that's left, but I have consecrated it. Any message is, what; 70% body language anyway? Here is what she does: she recognizes me, forces herself not to be happy, lifts her face toward the sky, and looks far off in the distance, like I do not exist.

But, before her eyes are quick enough, there are days I get to smile directly with joy, and every third time or so I make sure to wave, because I know that sitting in an automobile can make it difficult to see my friendliness.

That's been the routine for years.

The term "cult" has a wide variety of uses. Not every sect is a cult. Not every legalistic church is a cult. Just because a church is not mainstream in its beliefs, that does not make it a cult.

I don't use the word "cult" hardly at all, unless I am speaking culturally amongst evangelicals. (The word is offensive outside of evangelical Christianity, and eliminates opportunities to share one's faith quite decisively.) However it remains useful to me as a description of those groups which have a significant level of suspicion of outsiders.

There are behaviors about this group which concern me for the health of Christ's body, having nothing to do with doctrine.... I know they have services three times a week if not more. The women are only allowed to wear dresses near the ankle, and are not allowed to cut their hair. Without exception every time church is held, the women arrange their hair in styles that are elaborate to compare to prom night, both young girls and the elderly. The preacher himself has testified to me that he has forsaken medical attention because of his faith in God for healing. The church property (which I pass two times every school day of my life) has a single paved spot for the pastor's car, right in front of the building. I notice that most of the people who attend church live along the adjacent street in housing that is not so well to do, but they all drive very clean, new, and high-end automobiles. The pastor's car has gotten more valuable with time, and it changes every 6-9 months. The preaching... the preaching is not often expository, and the arrangements of scriptures appeal to emotion and repentance.

The doctrine:

"Jesus Only" Oneness Pentecostalism, which believes in a transient modalism, and therefore that the Trinity is a lie from Satan.

You may notice in the above graphic, that faith in Christ is missing altogether from the plan of salvation.

Unfortunately, Cindy is not the only one who treats me this way; with the one exception of Jan, they all have adopted this same body language, and I have seen them at the grocery store or along that block where they live many times. They once wanted to treat me to bible studies and help me "become saved" when I was in their midst, but now they too apparently have nothing to say to me.

I consider how I appear to them. It seems to me that even those who have become "heretics," even those who have become candidates for exercising the tool of "disfellowshipping," ought to be sought after by the body of believers; 2 Thess. 3:14-15:

And if anyone does not obey our word in this epistle, note that person and do not keep company with him, that he may be ashamed. Yet do not count him as an enemy, but admonish him as a brother.

I keep waiting for them to show that regard for my eternal well-being. But rather I worry that my confidence with the word of God that I took with their pastor, spread like a bad rumor. I am an enemy who deserves not to be rescued? Consequently - for the extreme reaction of abandonment which my theological interest mixed with love has wrought - I call this a "cult."

I look back on those precious moments when I was with them. I remember driving to their church and when I opened my car door, their children overtook me and wanted to know me. I remember Cindy's brother miraculously showing up on my door step, talking about how he can't go to church because of his sins, and I got to tell him about the exalted honor of the prodigal son. I remember how the pastor paid a visit to my home and brought his three daughters who listened to my presentation of the gospel of salvation. I treasure these things in my heart, as I wait for the LORD to open a door once more in their lives.

Someone somewhere told Cindy that she and her church were in control. In control of the truth, in control over me, spiritually. But I know something she has yet to learn; Romans 5:20-21 & James 4:11-12:

Moreover the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more, so that as sin reigned in death, even so grace might reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Do not speak evil of one another, brethren. He who speaks evil of a brother and judges his brother, speaks evil of the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is one Lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy. Who are you to judge another?

These brief "body language exchanges" communicate my non-compromise: I am a living testimony of the sufficiency of grace, and so ought she be! "Mercy triumphs over judgment!" (james 2:13)

Jan keeps my heart encouraged. At McDonalds, she pulled out a pamphlet from her church, and showed it to me. On it was the poetry Cindy had written about her relationship with the LORD. It was talented! I lavished love that comes so natural.

We parted ways with obvious affection for one another. I said, "please tell Cindy to come by and see me some time, I'd love it... that is, if she wants to." I wonder how long I have to wait?

God's timing is part of the demonstration of grace, so, I have no intentions to see it be rushed.

Broken God-Work

"Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Because this broken road
Prepares Your will for me"

-- Jeremy Camp, "Walk by Faith"

In my current weekly schedule I have to drive past that OP church I mentioned in my last post, at least twice a week now. I drive by it and keep looking for something by which I can feel justified to make contact again. A car I recognize, an actual member standing outside... but it's always very quiet and devoid of movement, which is the way I absorb the spiritual timing of my relationship with them.

I think it rather interesting that, as the times in my life wax and wane toward passion for this or that, God is preparing me for each kind of service and ministry. I believe it is God's will for this schedule to be like it is because as I drive by these people so often as I do now, they have once again come to the forefront of my hopes and desires and ache. So I am preparing for the ministry I have absolutely nothing to show for right now, that I hope God will one day give me.

"delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart."

So if I am delighted to think of God letting me relationally loving them, then it is God willed to have fulfillment at some point, else it is His desire for me to offer up that passion to be sacrificed because I know God is bigger than me and He accomplishes many or all good things through my faith and prayers.

And since I can see that now is not the right time, I know it is His desire to wait on Him, trusting Him with their lives, trusting Him to love them, trusting Him to make me into something that they might need to see.

Emptiness is a refiner of souls.

My Dealings

Here is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with the Oneness Pentecostal church that lives down the street from me.

The first year I lived here in my hometown this 14-year old girl called "Cindy" came by for fundraising, and I sponsored her through her church. The next year she came back, and I felt everything slow down in my mind so that I felt it was really important to ask her, "What does your church believe?"

I proceeded to ask, when she started sharing some scriptures she knew, if she believed she had to do what was right to go to heaven, and if Jesus was God. She eventually denied both, but said she believed salvation was of the Father. She said she did not believe in the Trinity, but she did believe Jesus was the Son of God. I was very impressed by her knowledge of scriptures, and I praised her highly for it. She invited me to come to her church.

She said, "You are so nice! I want my brother to come over and meet you, because he knows the scriptures better than I do and he can answer your questions."

I started attending Wednesday night services at the same time she would bring her older brothers over to meet me at my house. They were around the age of 18-20. At the church the mother of Cindy had me sit next to her and told me all kinds of things that were going on in her life. She was very, very loving.

Their service WAS quite different, although much like The People's Church (assemblies of God) where I once attended of my own accord. The worship music was the loudest I had ever known. It was so loud that it almost hurt my ears. All of the women wore nice dresses. They also all had hairdos that I am sure they spent a long time to create--they looked like dos to have for a prom date! All of the men were in suits. They spoke in tongues, and I think each one of them were truly trying to be as loud and emotional in their utterances as possible, because of their beliefs....

I tried to remain inconspicuous, amongst fifty people (yeah right). More than that I tried not to be shocked, but to be gracious as I noticed all these things and how I didn't fit in. I remember relying very much on constant prayer the whole time I was in the service, not because I knew they were different than me but because I NEEDED IT -- I needed God to reassure me that my fellowship with God was not harmed because of these obstacles that I didn't do as they did. They did an altar call after I made a regular habit of coming. I felt like all eyes were on me (another words, you have sins to repent for, and isn't it time you confessed them and made yourself right?) But I prayed hard to God confirming that I could confess my sins wherever I was at, and confess sins I did, but not the ones they wanted me to, most likely.

I would sometimes bring my daughters, and as the women introduced themselves to me I started speaking to their children and the children loved it. They were so eager for attention and I remember how every week they would crowd around me as we talked about my baby and their own siblings.

I would see Cindy's mom walking to or from church (she lived sort of near the church) and it was amazing how I was able to give her a lift a few times.

I asked to meet with the Pastor and his wife, so that I could learn what they believed. He came over several times to my house, and he would even bring his children, and I regret that I was not more gracious with him, for I was at least in part eager to get him to see my point of view.

To the material he gave me I wrote up my own doctrinal responses, and dropped them by the church. Within a couple of weeks of each of my drop-offs, his sermon on Wednesday evening would be centered around refuting the material I brought. I was both honored and injured.

I asked for a more committed bible study. I played phone tag with two women for several months, mostly because of their neglect and disinterest. It never came about. One of those women got married in the midst of these months, and I bought a beautiful present and left it at the church for her. But falling out of touch was just the direction everything was headed.

It actually took me about a year for me to realize that it was not my own choices of redirection of interests that caused this relationship to end. I finally realized that there had to be a good reason why Cindy or her brothers didn't come by anymore; after all, children don't get cynical or grow unaffectionate with time, but usually grow.

Maybe a year after I stopped attending one of the brothers came by to sell something, and I didn't recognize him but was strangely prompted to ask, "Is everything ok with you today?" He said, not really, because his family had lost faith in him, and his church had kind of shut him out, even, because of the choices to sin. He was under a lot of pressure to get his life back on the right track.

I said to him, "you know the parable of the prodigal son? I don't know how people are reacting to you but I believe from my own experiences that God is more eager to forgive you more than anyone else. Remember how he lavished his praise on the son when he returned from the wrong path? Well, even if you don't get that from anyone else around you, I want to encourage you that as far as the Lord is concerned, he accepts you as you are because you are ready to give your life back to him. His love is right there waiting for you in prayer."

He was listening intently, and as far as I could tell his hopes were lifted. He smiled, and said that he knew he could do it. Then, like a switch, he didn't want to talk to me anymore and said he had to go.

It's been two years since I attended their church. Since then I have seen very, very little of any of them. I saw my two bible study women in Albertsons, and I had to be the initiator to say "how are you?" They were very cold to me, and didn't speak anything except the questions I asked. I also saw Cindy's mom at Walmart quite recently, and she was not cold but she also didn't speak to me any longer than I inquired.

It hurts me more and more to think of these things, not because I expect to be treated well, but because I long to be with them again, to learn more about them, to just keep SERVING them, most of all. I want them to be loved. But I won't go and seek them out again, unless the Lord prompts. I am waiting for a God-given ministry.