January 6th, 2021 - The Fruits of Dominionism
I used to write fiction. In fact, my last novel was an exploration of this festering idea that the western church was somehow persecuted. While I liked the book, the storyline, and the characters, the sequel never materialised. I’ll tell you why: I’m not prophet, that’s for sure. But I am logical. In my mind, the logical flow from dominionist theology (seven mountain dominionism, or the idea that God has mandated the church to take dominion in “every domain of society”) was not good. In fact, it scared me. It may have even helped scare me into deconstruction.
What I saw yesterday as Trump supporters stormed the US Capitol looked eerily familiar to what I had seen in my minds eye. I could not, and did not, foresee a Trump presidency when I wrote that book. Like I said, I’m not a prophet. But I was deeply concerned by the attitude of entitlement that went along with the dominionist idea that political dominion was God-given. I watched, mystified, as Christian leaders abandoned their own moral convictions to rally behind an obvious narcissist with a checkered marital history, allegations of sexual assault, and a thin-to-the-point-of-laughable veneer of Christian allegiance. How was it anything but bleedingly obvious that this pathologically selfish, power-hungry thug was doing anything other than saying what he needed to say to lock up the nomination?
There are multiple flaws within the church universal that allowed for this to happen. Bad theology, poor discernment, prophets who confuse their own ideas or desires with the voice of God, the toxic mix of capitalism, dominionism and church to name a few. Perhaps the most significant issue was the tendency for neo-charismatic spokespeople to herald a “greater truth” when referring to the schism between the natural world and the spirit world. How could that not be cherry picked alongside scriptures about the “kingdom of God suffering violence and the violent take it by force”? How could that not result in prophets claiming supernatural overthrow of election results that church leaders hadn’t prophesied? How could that not end up in protests and riots?
It was not arrested then, and it hasn’t been arrested yet.
Now isn’t the day to go into a deep-dive on the issues with these sub-doctrines that seem to have combined to create a perfect storm for Christians to get caught up in the collective right-wing delusion. I have neither the heart nor the time for it. But I will say this:
We must take a keen, unbiased look at every doctrine and belief we hold, realising that if it is not good, if it is not kind, if it is not pure, if it does not build up what the Bible called “the least of us”, then it is not of God.
We must root out the heretical, damaging and unbiblical doctrine of dominionism that has woven its way into evangelical Christianity. Where money and power are promised, corruption can grow. The church is simply another at-risk organisation in this way.
We must give no pass to subtle or clandestine racism, misogyny, anti-government rhetoric, or false prophecy in our midst.
We must be about the hard work of reconciliation. Thoughts and prayers are not enough.
And we must realise that until the church is given back to the marginalised and disenfranchised for whom the person of Jesus dedicated his earthly life, then we are not the church he intended to be.
Now is not a moment to listen to a single church leader who excuses the behaviour at the capitol yesterday, or who claims it was “actually peaceful”, or that it was “necessary.” This was seditious and lawless. God is not glorified.
To my American friends, be safe. If it weren’t for Coronavirus, I’d offer my house up for your escapism! What a mad world we live in right now.
What a mad world indeed.
PSA: God Doesn’t Kill People in Bushfires
Okay. My least favourite athlete is back in the news – perhaps because he and Margaret Court like to compete for titles (like Australia’s biggest homophobe). I joke. I joke. But he claimed this weekend that the bushfires in Queensland are God’s judgement for abortion and marriage equality laws. When lives are lost in natural disasters and an accusation like this comes out, it’s no joke. But sadly, it’s not even new. Daniel Naliah made the same claim about abortion law and bushfires back in 2009.
It was outrageous and unbiblical then, and it’s outrageous and unbiblical now. But with lives lost, Imma drop a microblog on it to drop a few Biblical truthbombs.
Here they are. I’m sure there is more, but here’s the start:
Isaiah 51:6 describes some pretty heavy weather but promises his salvation shall endure. (I.e. He doesn’t kill people via extreme weather)
Luke 9:56 says Jesus came to save our lives not destroy them.
Matt 18:4 says it’s not God’s will that even one should perish.
Noah’s flood, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah occurred before the Old Testament/New Testament split whereby Jesus took the judgement of Mankind.
Even if this wasn’t the case, Abraham negotiated with God in Genesis 18:16ff and God said that if there were even 10 good men in Sodom and Gomorrah, he wouldn’t destroy it. I know there are more than 10 good men in Australia.
This is a long way of say that Izzy Folau’s statements are unbiblical, unfounded fear-mongering that does nothing but tarnish the name and perceived-nature of God. God doesn’t kill people because of law changes. But maybe we should pay some attention to climate change (which, believe it or not is not a religious issue! You can be a Christian and reject single use plastic because it’s bad for the environment).
Anyway. Hi! It’s Monday. Hope your’s is good. It’s going to be a huge week on the blog here, and I’m working really hard on some kicking’ content for you. If you haven’t subscribed yet, get on it friends. You won’t want to miss Thursday’s piece.
Have a great week, safe in the knowledge that God isn’t burning Australia down or causing crippling drought. Comforting, yeah?
Kit K.
The Good Christian Persecution Complex
Hey there bloggerati! It’s been a while. I’m afraid this months blogging effort has lapsed far behind others but I’m telling myself there’s a good reason for that. I’ve finished the first major redraft of a book I’m ghostwriting. I got a short-notice request for a coffee-table book of layman-friendly research articles that ate through a week, and in between, there has been man-flu, 2-year old molars and various kinds of growth spurts to hit Casa-Kennedy. In amongst this, something has been burning in my mind: the good Christian Persecution Complex. I want to take a moment to talk about it.
The truth is, it has been on my mind because we’ve been covering my least favourite book of the Bible at church recently: The Book of Revelation.
I hate it. I think I was put off it when I viewed a Kirk Douglas rapture film of some description when I was a touch too young, and thus my yearning for writings regarding apocalyptic prophecy died then and there. But there’s no denying it. Revelation exists. The powers that be saw fit to put it in the final cut of the Bible. So we’ve got to look at it, right? Nestled in Revelation chapter 2 is a reference to the church of Smyrna: the persecuted church. In his letter to the Smyrnaans, John encourages them not to fear prison, tribulation, poverty, or blasphemy, and promises they will overcome “the second death” and be given the crown of life. (Rev 2:12ff). Now, this is a beautiful note of encouragement to the persecuted church. But here is my strong feeling on it: we can’t call any opposition we might experience ‘persecution’. And perhaps not for the reasons you think.
Discomfort and bullying vs. persecution proper
Persecution is defined as “hostility and ill-treatment, especially because of race or political or religious beliefs; oppression.” Among its synonyms are victimization, maltreatment, abuse, tyrannisation, torture, torment, discrimination and other such terms. Over the course of the last five or so years, I’ve observed a lot of good Christians cry “persecution” when someone challenges their ideals on Facebook (which, oddly, seems to be where ‘real-life’ plays out these days. Weird.). While I do concede that cyberbullying is very real and also agree that for some, it takes real guts and incites real anxiety when they put their faith out there for the world to judge, I do have to offer up a caution: we can’t claim the martyrs crown because someone disagreed with our belief system.
Society is becoming increasingly pluralistic if you ask me. We don’t have one faith that everyone needs to subscribe to anymore and thus we can expect a bit more pushback when we say things like “Because the Bible says so.” Even if we look at Christianity alone, there are increasingly diverse ways of looking at our individual and collective efforts at following Christ. Two people who are well-educated, well-read and genuinely searching for the best way to live a Christian life can arrive at two very different conclusions. This means a lot of people can disagree with us, and even within the Christian faith alone, a lot of us can disagree with each other.
The results can often mean conflict, even nasty conflict. But here in this complicated and uncomfortable zone lies a truth we need to acknowledge: Discomfort, bullying and persecution aren’t the same things.
For clarity, I’ll offer up a qualification here: bullying is bad! I’m not a fan of bullying! Don’t do it. Don’t take part it in. Don’t stay silent if you witness it and can safely speak up and help the target. But don’t equate it with persecution. There may be overlap, but it is not the same thing. Persecution is often systematic and wide-spread. Bullying is more often one on one. Persecution involves large groups or power structures bearing down on minorities or marginalised people. Bullying is more targetted and nuanced. Persecution may involve bullying, but the reverse isn’t necessarily true.
And then there is discomfort. Discomfort is good sometimes. I’ve heard countless motivational speakers remind us that no growth happens inside our comfort zone, and I have to agree! We shouldn’t fear discomfort. It is part of life and sometimes good things come out of it! Persecution, however, is crushing, life-altering, and in so many cases, life-threatening. Open Doors USA, an organisation that exists for persecuted Christians, has this to say on the matter: “While Christian persecution takes many forms, it is defined as any hostility experienced as a result of identification with Jesus Christ. From Sudan to Russia, from Nigeria to North Korea, from Colombia to India, followers of Christianity are targeted for their faith. They are attacked; they are discriminated against at work and at school; they risk sexual violence, torture, arrest and much more.
In just the last year*, there have been:
Over 245 million Christians living in places where they experience high levels of persecution
4,305 Christians killed for their faith
1,847 churches and other Christian buildings attacked.
3,150 believers detained without trial, arrested, sentenced or imprisoned.”
These numbers are mind-boggling. But a further look into them (which came from the 2019 World Watch List) is this: Saudi Arabia didn’t even crack the top ten in terms of persecution against Christians. China didn’t crack the top twenty. The United Arab Emirates sat at number 45. Open Doors only carried the top 50 countries in terms of persecution on their list: The United States of America, Australia, and Great Britain did not make the list. Yet, at least from my observation, there is a growing idea that Evangelical Christians are being persecuted, and we seem to buy into this rhetoric all too easily.
The idea that we, in our privilege as some of the richest nations on earth, with our human rights advancements, our employment anti-discrimination laws, and our religious freedom acts, might be persecuted ignores the very real systematic targeting of our Christian brothers and sisters in other countries like North Korea, Somalia and Afghanistan – places where confessing Jesus as your saviour may cost you your life or your safety and livelihood.
The worst I will face here, in my white Judeo-Christian privilege, is someone calling me names on the internet. Bullying or harassment, but not high-level stuff that makes me legitimately fear for my safety. Not systematic torture, displacement and even murder of my people. I feel for those who face bullying because of the effects it has on them. I pray for them because that hurt is real. But it isn’t necessarily persecution and its unhelpful to confuse the two.
I have to make another distinction here: there may be many of us who have faced a bit of harassment, especially online, because of a “Christian” argument. This could be taken as a lesser form of persecution, and perhaps it is, but if you don’t have to worry that someone will even find out that you are a Christian (regardless of your thoughts on certain doctrines or current events), the odds are you aren’t being persecuted. I used to get called a “churchy” at work. I learned to take it in good humour. Later on, there was a swear jar at work put up for people who swore around me (because their assumption was that I would be offended. If only they hung around me now!) It made me a bit awkward in the beginning but then I took part in the game. I’ve been involved in my share of debates, but when I changed my posture from one of dogma to one of debate (with a particular bent towards connection and understanding rather than making the other person wrong), I found the world was a much softer place than I originally thought.
Why am I pointing it out? For a couple of reasons. One is that it is sometimes the abrasiveness in the delivery of our message that gets peoples backs up. People sense when someone is trying to make them wrong, and automatically defend their status quo. But the second reason is one that I find gravely concerning – There is a difference between persecution and the persecution complex. Both are harmful, one unspeakably so. But the persecution complex is something that can isolate and divide unnecessarily, especially if a person believes they are suffering persecution when they aren’t.
As I said a few paragraphs up, I’ve seen Christians cry persecution over Facebook stoushes they willingly waded into. I’ve seen mindboggling claims that the President of the United States is being persecuted (i.e. victimized on an international scale). Like…wow! While repeated efforts at convincing an unwilling world of an unpopular opinion (especially on social media) may reap repeated disagreements or arguments that certainly have a negative effect on a person’s state of mind, it is not necessarily persecution. Nor do I think you can claim persecution when you are the most powerful man in the free world. Holding that position of privilege is the antithesis of persecution.
Of late, I’ve started listening a little harder to my friends who are people of colour, or who belong to the LGBTQ+ community. I’ve been confronted by something I noticed here: we straight, white, cis-gendered, Judeo-Christian, middle-class westerners can be blissfully unaware of our own profound privilege and, by virtue of this, confuse the loss of that privilege with persecution. A better word for what we are feeling would be, I don’t know, crestfallen? Uncomfortable? But systematically victimized and oppressed, not so much. We might find ourselves needing to learn resilience a bit more, but the answer to this problem is compassion and self-development not fear.
Alan Noble, in an article for The Atlantic, pointed out some very real flaws in the evangelical tendency to buy into the persecution complex. He said: “Persecution has an allure for many evangelicals. In the Bible, Christians are promised by Saint Paul that they will suffer for Christ, if they love Him (Second Timothy 3:12). But especially in contemporary America, it is not clear what shape that suffering will take. Narratives of political, cultural, and theological oppression are popular in evangelical communities, but these are sometimes fiction or deeply exaggerated non-fiction—and only rarely accurate. This is problematic: If evangelicals want to have a persuasive voice in a pluralist society, a voice that can defend Christians from serious persecution, then we must be able to discern accurately when we are truly victims of oppression—and when this victimization is only imagined.”
But the last thing I want readers of this article to do is mock those who are suffering from a persecution complex. Here’s why:
The Persecution Complex is a Worrying Mental Delusion
The Merriam-Webster Complex Medical Dictionary calls it “the feeling of being persecuted especially without basis in reality.” In individuals, the persecution complex may be called a persecutory delusion and fall within a range of “delusional disorders’ in the DSM V (the diagnostic handbook of the psychological profession). In groups though, it is an interesting and perhaps dangerous phenomenon. I found a study resource online that helpfully described a persecution complex in the following way: “A persecution complex is a type of delusion. A delusion is a fixed, irrational belief that one is convinced is true despite evidence to the contrary. In the case of people suffering with delusions of persecution, the fixed irrational belief is that others are plotting against and/or following them. Signs that someone may be struggling with a persecution delusion include:
Increased isolation.
Paranoid behaviors
Verbal statements that make little sense or are not rational.
An increase in angry outbursts.”
If we were to witness this in a friend, we would have the right to be very concerned. But with the rise of cultural and political discourse in the public sphere (i.e. media), it isn’t uncommon for people to face off against a strong or emotive and opposing viewpoint. When this hit to the ego (and we all have an ego, or a sense of self) is combined with a persecution complex, things can get ugly.
So what happens when a group of people holds to the same ideals and experiences similar opposition? You have the potential for a group persecution complex to develop. You have the potential for the group to isolate itself, to believe society is against it, to develop an “us versus them” mentality, and for verbal statements rooted in the persecution delusion to be met with confirmation bias and thus become part of groups’ folklore. My fear is that this can then become the narrative of their lived experience and entrench the persecutory delusion even further.
Let me be real here: this is a terrible situation. Imagine believing society is against you, and the only people who truly understand you are part of a particular group. Imagine constantly thinking everything people write online is geared at you. Imagine the mental and emotional toll that would take. I could unpack this a lot further but I hope the case is clear: Even if the persecution is imagined, the effects of the persecution complex can be very, very real.
What do we do about it? I can’t give you all the answers, because I’m certainly not the authority on this issue. I write this for awareness and reflection more than anything. But I can say this: start with compassion. Regardless of whether someone is going through persecution proper or experiencing a persecution complex, something is going down here. You can’t fix the former easily. You can pray, and donate to good causes. You can be part of organisations working to end persecution. But if a friend of yours is experiencing a persecution complex, you can’t tell them they’re idiots and should get over it. That may just reinforce the delusion.
There could be something a lot deeper going on. The persecution complex isn’t uncommon in cults. It can also be part of mental illness. It may simply be a way of externalising some deep internal unrest. Either way, its tough stuff. It might require professional help to shift.
Approach it with care. But know this: we can’t fix a problem if we can’t accurately diagnose it. If it isn’t persecution, if its a persecution complex, then the system isn’t the problem. The problem is a lot closer to home.
Just some thoughts! Hopefully thats writer’s block out of the way! lol. I’ll return next week friends!
Deliverance: What the Hell?
I debated putting the word “Heck” in the subject line there, but look – I’m partial to a truly awful pun. However, I’m not partial to truly awful theology and/or spiritual abuse. Hence, I need to pull on my big girl panties and talk about what I said I’d talk about at the close of my last article: deliverance. It came at the conclusion of a discussion about mental health and Christians, specifically whether or not Christians can suffer from depression. For the longest time, depression, anxiety or other mental illnesses have carried an unfortunate inference in Christian circles: that they may be somehow, in some cases, spiritually underpinned. Read my last piece for my thoughts about that. But now we move on to the chunkier part of the argument: deliverance. Oh brother.
I’ll start with a story, perhaps a cautionary tale. Once upon a time, I was struggling with a few dud hands life had dealt me. I found a counsellor that did wonders. I was making progress. Then I got in a *ahem* discussion with my pastor. He “suggested” strongly that I drop that counsellor and do something else. I said, “No thank you, this is working and I want to stick with it.” Next came a big reaction and the “suggestion” that I fly to a neighbouring country to go through a power-deliverance experience with a minister flown in from America. When I say “Power-deliverance” I mean the hard-core evangelical experience of being prayed over and having someone command spirits to come out of you. That was not my cup of tea, because I wasn’t dealing with demons. I was dealing with grief, loss and a few weird/traumatic curveballs. Even if this wasn’t the case, it still didn’t exactly sit right with me.
Anyway. The message I got from that interaction was “You are under the influence of demons. They need to be cast out of you.” I was flabbergasted. I sat on the couch and blinked while my wonderful husband recognised the signs of PTSD raising its head again and flew in to bat for me.
Thank God he did. Because I believe a power-deliverance experience like that would have been profoundly damaging for two reasons: It would have been administered without true consent, only guilt and shame over alleged “demonic influence” that would have lead me to discount the validity of my choice in all of this, and because being in the atmosphere described by the people who went to see this deliverance person would have undoubtedly triggered my PTSD. That would have looked like some evidence of demonic influence, and a vicious cycle would have continued. Gentle, qualified counselling however, worked great. (Side note: I am doing very well now. Thanks for asking!)
I tell this story for a couple of reasons: the practice of “deliverance” isn’t gone from the church. Not even close. Christian mega-church “Bethel” recently launched a gay conversion therapy program which would likely have some element of deliverance in it. If you plug the term “deliverance ministry” into a search engine, you will get all sorts of hits. But simplest truth is this: many Christian people have experienced it. Some feel good about it. Some say they feel good about it. Some really don’t.
I admit I sit in a place of privilege here. I know my own mind. I know the Bible to a fairly decent (though not scholarly) degree. I’m well read. I am a level-headed and self-assured person who has witnessed a good many Christian lurks and quirks over the years. It is with all of this in mind that I assert the following: there are three types of deliverance. You probably REALLY don’t need the third.
I’ll say straight off the bat that this is an uncomfortable topic for me. But I’m writing about it because as the NAR and Neocharismatic movements gain speed, as pseudo-Christian doctrines can be taken up without so much as a reference check, and as paganism and Christian spiritual warfare appear to show significant overlap in the Venn-diagram of modern spiritual practices, its important to know BS when you see it. And its important to know what you need, and your rights when you are speaking with the clergy.
Before you say it: Yes, Jesus engaged in power-deliverance in the New Testament. We see it when he cast the demons out of the man who self-identified as having a legion of demons within him (Mark 5, Luke 8). Now, this is an interesting one, because we are talking here about a raving lunatic so dangerous he could not be held with chains. We also witness Jesus converse with the man and then agree to send the evil spirits into the pigs (2000 of them. Bacon exports from the Gerasene Region were poor that week).
Now: we don’t know what significant psychiatric disorder this man may have had. We know he lived in a time where modern medicine did not exist, but spiritual practice was a lot more common. He was dealing with God made flesh, who had perfect knowledge of the situation. Therefore human error is removed from the equation.
The world has changed. Deliverance practitioners are now thoroughly and completely human with imperfect knowledge. They are largely unqualified (I mean, I haven’t read of a university with a degree in casting out demons – have you?). We have modern medicine that can bring calm when needed. We have anti-psychotic medication for extreme cases like the Gerasene man in Luke 8 and Mark 5). There is literally no reason or excuse for someone in 2019 to be forced into an exorcism. (When I say forced, I mean forced literally, or made to feel such shame that they submit under emotional duress). By and large, I don’t think this is what happened in the Gerasene case (but that’s a much larger conversation – too big for this tiny blog)
And side note: in John 8: 52, Jesus was told he was demon-possessed and then the pharisees tried to stone him. So thats fun. ANYWAY! On to the meaty part of this blog article. What do I believe every Christian needs to know about deliverance?
The first type of deliverance is Salvation. When you read through the gospels and their account of Jesus death on the cross for the forgiveness of sins and humankinds reconciliation to God through Him, you read a powerful, all-encompassing and complete process. John 19:30 sees Jesus utter “it is finished.” Revelation 1:18 and surrounding scriptures chronicle Jesus’ descent into Hades to take the keys of death and hell. Ephesians 1:7 and 13 talk about the gifts of salvation and of the Holy Spirit. Perhaps most poignantly Phillipians 2:11 says “At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” I.e. Once you believe in Jesus and have accepted the gift of the Holy Spirit who dwells in you, that’s it. This is the bit where you can all sing Stevie Wonder’s “Signed, sealed, delivered.”
I could delve into all sorts of exegesis and hermeneutics about all the scriptures used here, but that would be a thesis in and of itself. The critical takeaway point is this: what Jesus did is thorough, complete and a finished work of deliverance in and of itself. We accept that then there’s no space left open for demonic possession. Ephesians 1:13 even calls it the “Seal” of the Holy Spirit. To say that someone can be born again and still demon possessed is a fallacy.
Another day, I will debate what salvation means. But for now, I’ll point you to Romans 10:9 and John 3:16 and get on with my day.
The second type of deliverance is the word of God. Pentecostal and Charismatic Christians will likely be familiar with the old exclusion clause that helps deliverance ministries get around the complete nature of deliverance at the point of salvation. They say things like “Okay. You aren’t possessed, because if you are a Christian you can’t be, but you might be under the influence.” This is where the second type of deliverance comes in: it is the gradual strengthening of a person as they know more about the word and nature of God, and know more about their own mind and how it works. Romans 12:1-2 says “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind that you may prove what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”
I like the word “prove” here. I think of a math proof – where the answer to a problem is explained via the process the mathematician used to get there. It’s not a matter of having someone pray for you to be all transformed and then “wham bam” I’ve totally changed how I think. That simply doesn’t last. Its the crash diet of Christianity. Old habits return. We see this in the parable of the empty house in Matthew 12:43-45 (where the tenant is evicted from the house, returns finding it empty, and brings seven friends back). It’s a simple illustration that we can’t just get rid of one way of thinking, living and being, and replace it with nothing. Old habits die hard. That’s why we learn, we study. We take in the scriptures, think about them, enact them and have them become part of our lives. It’s a gradual process of transformation and frankly, it’s beautiful.
Now I’m going to do something heretical here and suggest that the use of the word ‘mind’ in this scripture should suggest to us that we look after the mind in the same way we do the body. i.e. If there is something not quite right, we get help. If you are a reader of my blog, you’ll know I love therapy. I don’t just go when I’m not doing well. I go when I’m doing well so I might learn to do better. The wisdom I have gained from understanding how my mind works has been life-changing. I recently spoke to a person who had been advised by her pastors not to go see a secular therapist and had lived with decades of torment. My heart broke for her. That is bad advice. It’s like telling someone only to go to a Christian doctor when the only specialists available to save a life might be non-Christian.
A good therapist is qualified in the science of Psychology. They will counsel you towards your goals and in accordance with your own values. You will get value out of it. It’s worth shopping around for. So here is the heretical bit: the ‘mind’ is hard to define, but its largely thought of as the brain in action. When the Dalai Lama asked “Can the mind change the brain” in the 1980’s, he was laughed at. Then science caught on to what he was talking about, and now we have a far better understanding that we run our brains. They don’t run us. The field of neuroplasticity is proof of this.
There is a long-held argument in Christian circles that our mind and our spirit are different things: that we are a tripartite being comprising mind, spirit and body. However, there is another, lesser-known theory buried within Christian scholarship that holds to a dichotomy rather than a trichotomy. I err on the side of ‘dichotomy’. But regardless of which side you come down on, here is something I believe solidly: While you are learning about your faith, your God, and your guidebook (being the Bible), it is a good thing to also learn about yourself. Was it Socrates who said, “Know thyself?” It is a profound and beautiful thing when you can reflect on your own growth, or reflect on how the Bible in all its complexity might help you grow. This growth, led by the word and spirit of God, is a form of deliverance.
So now for the third type of deliverance: the power ministries. Green vomit. Exorcisms. Etc. I did a bit of searching on this before writing this blog piece. I was aghast to discover that it hasn’t really progressed in its rational or methodology since Derek Prince Ministries released a document on it in 1985. Detailed in that document was a whole lot of demonology in dot point format with no real rationale or exegesis attached to it. I’m sure, in other corners of the internet, there is better documentation on it. I’m also sure that people can use all sorts of out of context scriptural arguments to back up their positions. The fact of the matter is that for the most part, the stuff I’ve read has relied upon “divine revelation” to spell out how to approach exorcism. This, for me, is wildly concerning.
Now I want to flag a danger here: it is so easy for the area of exorcism to cross over into abuse. It is so easy for it to happen without genuine or even explicit consent. It is so easy for a person to be shamed into it, or for it to be based on bad theology.
This is dangerous. So very dangerous. It is my belief that, in this day and age, it should be avoided at all costs. When the first two deliverance options are complete in nature and process, there is no need for the third. If you feel there is a need for the third, I’d encourage medical assistance, counselling and more time dedicated the process of healing and transformation before you opt for the third. Do the work first. In life, as in mental health or even diets, you can’t cut corners. This could be a serious psychiatric problem that exorcisms might only make worse.
I’ve seen a few of these “casting out demons” moments in my time. If anything, I believe it gave someone an experience that was profound enough to allow them to tell themself a different story and empower them towards recovery. I cannot tell you what else (if anything) happened. But sometimes that’s all that is needed: that boost that allows the mind to break out of the familiar pathways it has been caught in for years and experience something new. But in other situations, all I can see in power-deliverance ministries is bad theology and stage-craft. I am not all-knowing. There might be something in it. But for me, it’s a hard pass. Leave it to the Son of God and the original apostles. Guiding people through the first two options, and when needed referring to mental health professionals, should be all we need.
I don’t discount the power of prayer. It is clearly Biblical. It is clearly a practice that has carried down through cultures and generations. It can be helpful and calming. If someone needs or requests prayer for assistance, then more power to them. Support them. But don’t overstep the mark of what they are actually asking for. God isn’t waiting for someone to pray for you so He can do something. He already sent Jesus to do it. He needs no middle man. And I can’t stress this enough: shame, guilt, or feeling like someone thinks you need deliverance doesn’t mean you need to go through with an exorcism.
A moment of willingness to seek out or submit to prayer should not be used as an opportunity to be subjected to exorcisms or power-deliverance. I believe that this is an overstepping of consent at best, and spiritual abuse at worst. If in your own time you experience some profound moment in which something becomes clear and you become changed, wonderful. Bookmark that moment and celebrate it. But for someone else to step into that place and do it for you concerns me a little.
The human mind/spirit is an amazing thing. In it dwells the power to hurt and heal, grow and change, learn and develop. When we harness that mind in combination with faith in a Saviour who has done all the supernatural stuff that will ever be needed, then we have a complete picture of deliverance.
That, I believe, is all we need.
Peace
Kit K.
Deconstruction: Why the Church Needs To Do It Too
I was reading a critique of the Christian deconstruction phenomenon this week (because I like to challenge my own thoughts, too, not just everyone else’s!). It seems the movement is greatly misunderstood. Several articles I read alleged that the problem with deconstruction was that people who went through it seemed determined to do away with absolute truth, or the concept of sin, or the deity of Jesus, or the authority of the Bible. They seemed to believe that the only way to be a Christian and a progressive is to erase these fundamentals in order to line up with our own changing ideals.
As a deconstructor, and as a Christian progressive, nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, the process of deconstruction calls us to delve further into truth. It causes us to search for it beyond dogma and beyond what we have been told scriptures mean, sometimes from the days of early childhood. Deconstruction is applying critical thinking to the concepts we just assume are true. It calls us to really look for truth, and once we find it, to wrap thoughts and words and ways of living around it.
Here’s the kicker: If what you are living by is the truth, then you shouldn’t fear to apply critical thinking to it. The truth will survive examination. If anything, it will become more meaningful because of it.
I’ve been listening to a podcast called “This Cultural Moment.” It’s been fascinating, and while I don’t necessarily agree with everything these guys say (because my analysis on certain things differs), I love the process of looking at cultural moments and current affairs through the eyes of what it means to be a Christian. But a thought hit me when I was listening to it: this phenomenon of “deconstruction” doesn’t just apply to Christians. It applies to churches as well, and that’s a very needed, very good thing.
I look around church establishments these days and I see a few things (and I should note at this point that this article is wholly and solely my opinion!). I see some institutions trying to hold on to relevance by arguing old ideas, asserting dogma because “God says so” in the face of civil rights advancements, and generally bunkering down in some ill-fated attempt to hold on to influence and relevance. I see other churches trying to get hip in order to maintain relevance. Here are fancy stage designs, cutting edge music and tech, coffee machines in foyers, sermons that are less like delivery methods for spiritual and scriptural truths and more like Ted Talks. What is the “right” way, if indeed there is one? I don’t know. Some of these ways of staying hip are very much enjoyed and appreciated in my corner! But I can tell you one thing for sure:
The church needs deconstruction too.
Church attendance used to be every week. Now, to be a regular, you need to go only once every three or four weeks. (I go almost every week. That must make me a zealot. Or a musician). Attendance is deconstructing. Church used to be a moral measuring stick. Now, it isn’t. Church used to be a place where we found God, grew convicted of our sin, and sought the way forward in terms of living a more Godly life. Now, we figure out ethics and morals within the context of our own spheres of influence and our own devotion. Evangelism isn’t so cut and dried. These aspects, too, are deconstructing.
Of late, I’ve found myself asking whether it’s possible to have Christianity without the fear and self-loathing. The answer I came to is that it should be possible: because Jesus was the highest example of love, compassion, and progressive ideas when it came to the inclusion of those the religious system had shunned. He was/is the highest example of life above temptation, of grace and truth in the face of persecution and death. He is always worth following. He doesn’t require me to hate myself so that I can follow Him. He only requires me to love, acknowledge and follow Him, knowing that in my humanness I will mess up and that in those moments, His grace is sufficient.
As more people embark on this journey of deconstruction, and as modern life marches on, there are a few changing realities we can expect: digital church attendance will matter more to people, so our web presence’s need to offer more than shiny pictures and short clips of sermon highlights. Depth will matter. Preaching, being an experiential thing, will take precidence over teaching in many settings, but this does not negate the need for good teaching. If anything, it makes it more important (especially as more independent churches pop up, which has many benefits but also the ever-present risk of bad theology and cults of personality). The community of faith will maintain its importance, but the way this manifests may be faced with challenges.
These are my hunches. There are better experts with more thoughts, I’m sure. But what I’m saying is this: deconstruction is here, and it applies to groups as well as individuals. If the church doesn’t change, it is done. But Jesus isn’t. Because He is still relevant and will always be relevant. Now is not a time for digging in and attempting to maintain old structures of power, influence, dogma or even format. The structure we have now is something we have inherited generation after generation since Constantine. But even that didn’t bear any resemblance to the early church we saw in Acts. So why we have such a devotion to the old familiar format is a curious thing.
Maybe its time to reinvent it.
Just some thoughts! See ya’ll next week for something a touch more scholarly!
Peace out,
Kit K.
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Riding the Third Wave: The Neocharismatic Movement
I feel like this blog post could open with a Matrix pun. In fact, as a kid who grew up in the neo-charismatic movement, I’ve heard a good many youth-centred messages that included the old “red pill, blue pill, choose your reality” message extracted from the wisdom of the Wachowskis (who wrote the screenplay). But I’ll refrain. I’m about to launch into an interesting series on the link between modern spiritual warfare and paganism. But in order to preface that, we need to know what the New Apostolic Reformation is (see last weeks post) and what the Neo-Charismatic Movement is. They are intertwined, but also quite distinct from each other. So here we go: the history-hack takes on the third wave. Up, up and away.
The Third Wave Charismatic Movement is known by a few names. Among them are the terms neo-charismatic and hyper-charismatic and of the two, I think the latter makes the most sense. Essentially, it’s a relatively recent movement within evangelicalism, which in itself is a broad term taking in a good many expressions of faith (all of which involve evangelism or the spread of Christianity). To understand the neo-charistmatic movement, we need to know what came before it and what it looks like today.
The first wave: Pentecostalism circa 1900
This “first wave” as some historians call it was undoubtedly an exciting time in the life of the church universal. Marked by revivalists and revivals (such as Azusa Street), it was a renewal movement within protestant Christianity that did away with the cessationist idea that the spiritual gifts had disappeared from the church. The Pentecostal movement saw the restoration of prophecy, healing and speaking in tongues to the church. Since Azusa Street (which seems to have become the historical marker of Pentecostalism’s emergence), this movement has swept across the world and with it, the classical beliefs within Pentecostalism have spread. These include but are not limited to (because lets remember I’m a hack of a historian):
Evangelism
The reliability and infallibility of the Bible (in fact, many pentecostals seem to be Biblical Literalists)
Salvation by grace through faith, and then transformation of ones life through Jesus.
Baptism, as in baptism into Christ at salvation, then Baptism in water and Baptism with the Holy Spirit where the gift of tongues is received.
The eminent return of Jesus.
Other doctrines such as divine healing, spiritual gifts, and worship through songs, prayers, communion, giving and other methods.
All in all, pentecostalism has offered great gifts to the world. It seemed to be an alternative to the stagnation that other faith institutions were/are experiencing. It offered a shared experience of faith which was a relatively new experience. There were some big names in this movement, of course. People like Charles Parham and William J Seymour were teaching on speaking in tongues, divine healing and evangelism. Gone were the silent observances of faith, mediated by the much revered clergy, and in came the participatory revival experiences that immersed believers in a new experience of Christianity.
There have been a good many big names, controversies and developments within the Pentecostal movement over the years (which would take forever to cover off on). I can’t help but think of the tele-evangelists of the 1980’s and 1990’s and wonder where they fit in – names like Kenneth Copeland, Benny Hinn, Yonghi-Cho and others that rang loud through-out my childhood. They were hardly the revivalist types (like Parham and Seymour), but attempted to take the Pentecostal church experience into lounge rooms.
Truthfully, you could exist in a Pentecostal church, be touched by the evangelical charismatic movement and still be influenced by the neo-charismatic movement in tandem. One wave seems to roll into another quiet seemlessly.
The second wave: The evangelical charismatic movement of the 1960’s
Charismatic Evangelicalism amassed a wide following and built on the pentecostal doctrine with two major differences: it did not major on speaking in tongues as evidence of being baptised in the Holy Spirit, but it did major on the spiritual gifts (prophecy, healing, faith, healing, miracles, discernment of spirits, tongues). While, as I said above, these two “waves” or movements seem to roll in pretty effortlessly with each other, there were clashes aplenty. One was this “the failure of Charismatics to embrace traditional Pentecostal taboos on dancing, drinking alcohol, smoking, and restrictions on dress and appearance [that] initiated an identity crisis for classical Pentecostals, who were forced to reexamine long held assumptions about what it meant to be Spirit filled. The liberalizing influence of the Charismatic Movement on classical Pentecostalism can be seen in the disappearance of many of these taboos since the 1960s. Because of this, the cultural differences between classical Pentecostals and charismatics have lessened over time.”
Looking back through my experience in Christianity, it seems that many people don’t know exactly where they fit on the Pentecostal/Charismatic scale. It is said that Pentecostals believe that speaking in tongues is necessary evidence of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and that they are more strict on the taboos mentioned in the quote above, while Charismatics aren’t too fussed on either of these things. I guess I grew up Charismatic, but even within this, I was touched by the purity movement which (functionally if not explicitly) placed restrictions on dress and appearance). I had my first drink of alcohol at age 25, and dancing was always a matter in which one had to be careful not to be too sensual. In my experience, Pentecostalism and Charismatics seemed to roll together. The clashes between the movements seem to be put on the back burner as people plunge ahead and roll with the waves when it comes to faith movements. This is fine, but as you know, I’m all about knowing what you believe.
So that was the second wave. The third wave was yet to come:
And here we are: The Neo-charismatic Movement.
In the third wave, we saw the power evangelists gain fame. I’m sure Billy Graham was the trailblazer here. But as time marches on, it’s the big ministries like the Bethel types, the Todd Whites and Heidi Bakers of the world that fly the flag.
Early on, there were a couple of movements that raised eyebrows or attracted a lot of criticism. Two such movements were the so-called Toronto Blessing (marked by so called “holy laughter” and lead by Rodney Howard Browne) and the Pensacola (or Brownesville) Revival. Criticisms that spanned both movements included a lack of sustainability, and potentially capitalising on the naivety of believers who may have been swept up in a hyped atmosphere that may have had little or nothing to do with God at all. There was also a bucket of theological issues raised. (I’m not going to critique these revivals today. You can read up on them here if you want).
As a child, I never experienced the Brownsville/Pensacola revival. That was considered to be “geographically specific” and unless you visited the so-called “power centre” you wouldn’t be touched by it. This, of course, is jarringly opposed to the omnipotence and omnipresence of God which leads me to ask “Which spirit was ruling the roost over there?” I did, however, experience the Toronto Blessing. I sat beside my parents in a crowded auditorium in 1996 and witnessed the immersive worship that was the preliminary to Rodney Howard Browne striding onto the stage and singing “This is that” – his self-penned revival theme-song. To be honest, I was more taken with the lady on the piano who could run a whole band from her seat behind the ivories. She was the one I wanted to emulate. (And kinda did, I guess).
ANYWAY! This movement characterised by laughter and being “drunk in the spirit” did reach my corner of the world – little Gippsland region in the back blocks of Australia. I remember watching the adults roll about on the floor in church meetings barking and laughing and falling on each-other. I had no idea what was going on, but it proved the perfect opportunity to find your friends and cackle your way through church. No one ever noticed if you leaned in to your bestie, made a quiet remark about how ridiculous someone looked, and then laughed raucously. It was “the Holy Spirit at work”. That was our cover.
Years on, I see little or no fruit from that movement (although I’m happy to be proven wrong if anyone has data). Not a soul saved in my area because of it (that I can recall). No lasting sense of renewal that I know of or could observe. No larger churches. No socio-economic change. No patches of the world touched by this movement that showed lasting declines in depression and anxiety statistics that should go with an outpouring of holy peace and joy. Maybe there were miracles, but these can’t be attributed directly to a movement. If the scripture says “Lay hands on the sick and they will recover” and that happened, then it’s because of the Holy Spirit and not because of so-called “Holy Laughter.” I guess 1 Peter 4:7, which cautions us to be sober and watchful, is my big caution here.
What was the Toronto Blessing then, and if it was God, why did He do it? I don’t know. Ask the real historians. But the thing we have to be watchful of now is the theological issues that are raising their heads as the neo-charismatic movement beds itself down and marches forward under the current big brands in Christianity.
The Big Theological Differences in Neo-Charismatics
In the neo-charismatic movement, we have gone from the gifts of the spirit, to emphasis on signs and wonders, and the supernatural. I find this interesting. We seem to be upping the ante from one movement to the next and I have to wonder whether this is at least partially manufactured to fit an audience that demands more from the entertainment it consumes and has less of an attention span to consume it. Tv scenes are shorter and more intense. Movies are more gripping, with more special effects and quickly escalating plot lines. Social media has seemingly affected the attention spans of readers to sound-bytes and status updates.
Why do I mention these seemingly unrelated issues? Because along with these shortened attention spans and the escalating nature of entertainment in the secular world, we see shorter sermons, more intensive immersive worship experiences, electric atmospheres, shows of signs, wonders and miracles and (in my opinion) less emphasis on a well-considered and well informed faith. How do you build a solid, deep and well informed faith in a short sermon that is often more loaded with pop psychology than with scripture? (Look, there are some wonderful churches out there! I’m taking a broad brush to the issue)
My big concern within this third wave is that we can’t and shouldn’t treat Jesus like a drug. If we don’t feel Him, that doesn’t change His reality. It shouldn’t. But if we have been raised into Christianity on a steady diet of signs, wonders, miracles and spiritual gifts, immersive worship experiences and communal expressions of faith, then if our faith suddenly becomes rocked by an estrangement from church or community, and those feelings go away or we pray and don’t get healed – who is God? Where is God? Did He disappear? Am I going to Hell now?
Many a theologian has raised concerns over the errant teachings that have come out during this third wave. A personal concern of mine is that with increasing numbers of independent churches, and a decrease in emphasis on doctrine and qualification (with calling taking its place as if we don’t need both), then it seems we are perfectly poised for an epidemic of toxic, authoritarian or even cultish churches to emerge. These do not serve the body of Christ. These can leave immense damage in their wake when a believer wakes up to what is going on and has to extract themselves and their family from its grasp. (Read more here)
We don’t need bizarre manifestations for Christianity to be relevant. In fact, that could make it a laughing stock. We don’t need to ‘use’ Jesus like a drug to fix our mood or elevate our faith and devotion. Christianity, true followership of Christ, comes from a deep place within us. It is not a political stance. It doesn’t demand Dominionism (as we see in the NAR) or showiness. If we continue to create this hyped-up Christianity, then we are prepping ourselves for a mass exodus from the faith when inevitably, the individuals that make up the massive evangelical following worldwide hit hard times and start to question their faith.
True faith, to me, is deep, sober, grounded in the word, grown in compassion and love, and practiced regardless of church attendance (which of course we are exhorted to do so we don’t lose faith in the hard times anyway). How do you build such a faith if yours is built purely on the experience of neo-charismatic Christianity? For all the hype, for all the miracles, for all the songs and sermons, surely the personal expression of faith offered to God in the quiet, unseen moments is more meaningful. Just my take on it!
So there you have it: third wave/ neo-charismatic movement. I’ll admit, I’m a participant in the third wave. I just do it with my own Bible in hand rather than a firm reliance on my pastors wisdom. To be honest, I much prefer it that way.
See you in a few days for one heck of a series!
(Okay Kit. Stop procrastinating and write it!)
PEACE!
Kit K