Tuesday, April 05, 2005
AOTGA - Act 3
The news was out. We aren't yet sure how it happened. We were told to keep it quiet about the unique events, but somehow while we were keeping quiet seventy people received the Holy Spirit.
The curate was in charge of the youth group. He was driving two members home and they stopped in Denny's Coffee Shop for a coke. The kids said something was happening in the parish, and they wanted to know what it was. The curate said he wasn't allowed to tell. They kept at him, so he told them a bit. And right there in Denny's Coffee Shop, the Holy Spirit came upon those two teen-agers and tears came into their eyes as they asked to received. The curate called the rector. The rector said no.
The curate escorted them to the car, where they sat and shook and cried until he prayed for them and they began to speak in new languages.
A crippled woman was healed and drove her car home from church. A woman was instantaneously healed of shingles. Atheists and agnostics became Christians. Lackadaisical believers became keen Christians who gave ten percent of their income to God and shared Jesus Christ with anyone who would listen. Sad people turned happy. Overly introspective people grew interested in others. It was an exciting time.
One day I was driving and singing in the Spirit. Suddenly I knew what I was singing in the language God had given me. I was singing part of the words of an old song, but to a different tune, and it had something else tacked on:
It was interesting but it couldn't really be the interpretation, I thought; God only used men in our church. The Spirit was beginning to teach us, but at that time we still did not have ears to hear.
One day my friend Thelma and I were having breakfast at the International House of Pancakes. Over the pancakes and boysenberry syrup, I told her about my experience with the Holy Spirit. Her answer was, "I'm very happy for you, Jean, but you've always been more religious than I am."
Not long after, I was in her apartment in Van Nuys and her daughter, Nancy, was there as well. Of course we were talking about the Holy Spirit and the incredible happenings. What could be half so fascinating? In the middle of it I said, "Nancy, I understand why you don't want to receive the gift until your husband does, but Thelma, I can't understand why you don't want to."
In a small voice Nancy said, "I want to."
Thelma spoke out with, "Who said I didn't want to?"
I felt like the punch line in the joke: "Oh, my God, what do I do now?" Only I was serious.
I telephoned the rector to ask him to pray for Thelma and Nancy. He was out of town. In desperation I resorted to trying to reach some layman. No one was available. Thelma said, "Can't you pray for us?"
"Well," I thought, "There's no harm in trying." We all three prayed and asked God to pour out His Holy Spirit and He did and they both had new languages. I had learned a curious truth: God even uses women.
One night after guild meeting, while driving a young housewife to her home, I found myself saying, "Have you heard about the Holy Spirit?"
She looked at me as though I had lost my mind and answered, "Of course I've heard about the Holy Spirit."
"No, I mean what He is doing in the parish."
"I don't think so. Tell me." And it all tumbled out. She went home and awakened her husband at 1:00 AM to tell him what was going on. A day or so later she invited me to visit her. She made it clear that she wasn't interested in participating -- just curious. As I was relating some of teh extraordinary happenings and reading passages from one of Agnes Sanford's books, she interrupted.
"I want it."
"What?"
"I want to receive right now." And she did -- a rich and beautiful language of praise and worship to which I received the interpretation. We were both happy enough to burst. God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world!
I don't mean to give the impression that everything was perfect all the time -- far from it. Some people were jealous and remained so. Others became disloyal to their friends, and pressure intensified this character trait rather than improving it. And there was pressure. Two of the priests of the parish had received the gift, and two were violently opposed. This naturally caused tension. For myself, I think I did everything wrong it is possible to do. We were very new and confused and like apple trees in the spring -- our fruit was small and green. But God was good and sent us a bit of help.
A number of us had remained very naive about the Christian community. We still thought God revolved around our particular segment of the Church. Surprisingly enough, we thought we were the Church.
For me the change began when Father whispered to me one day, "I'll tell you something if you won't tell anyone."
"Yes?"
"The other day I went to a place that was very strange. There were a lot of people there and some of them were rather odd looking. There were young people, old people, poor people and rich people. But they all had one thing in common: they loved Jesus."
I asked if I could take a friend and go. He agreed and told me how to get there. He had made it sound so mysterious that I was apprehensive. I almost expected to have to knowck on a door and say, "Joe sent me" to an eye peering through a peephole.
It wasn't like that at all. Everyone bought his own breakfast in a cafeteria and went upstairs to eat it. Afterward they sang and people told of good things that God had accomplished in their lives. In the middle of the service, the telephone rang. The leader was called to the telephone and came back visibly shaken. He said his four-day-old granddaughter was dying of jaundice. He asked a young man to pray for the granddaughter. The young man prayed into the microphone and asked God to heal the baby. Then he quietly began to speak in tongues. I didn't know the language he was speaking, but from God I received the sense of what was said. I turned to my friend and whispered, "He said, 'I am the Lord thy God. I have healed before and I will heal this baby.'"
A young man stood up and said, "Danny spoke French. I don't speak French very well, but I could understand some of it. God said the baby would be healed." He sat down.
A man close to us stood up and said, "I majored in French and speak it well. I have written down what was said in French and have translated it for you." He held up the paper. Above the French words was written, more or less, this translation: "I am the Lord thy God. I have healed before and I will heal this baby."
I don't need to tell you that the baby was healed. Of course she was, but we didn't find that out until later. However, we felt we had seen a miracle. It was the first time we had ever known someone under the influence of the Holy Spirit to speak a known language, someone else to receive the interpretation from God, and a third party to be able to translate the language. To us it seemed an extraordinary experience. Now it no longer seems so, since I have seen it happen many times. Always wonderful, but not extraordinary.
We dashed back to Van Nuys and the rector's house to share what had happened. Paul Castle was there, questioning the rector about the unorthodox occurrences at St. Mark's. I knew Paul well. He was an usher in the church and used to take photographs free of charge to advertise our fashion shows. What I didn't know was that he was an atheist.
We poured out our story. Can you imagine the effect of this on an atheist? Paul knew us; he knew we weren't crazy and we weren't liars. If this had really happaned, and it obviously had, then there must be a God. If there is a God, He might very well have a Son Jesus Christ --
Paul isn't an atheist anymore. He is one of the most active Christian layman I knew -- and now, thirteen years later, he is entering seminary.
So that's how we came into contact with the Pentecostals. Previous to this I thought we were the only people in the world who spoke in tongues -- the only apples in a whole basket of oranges. What a relief to find other apples in the basket!
We had a prayer meeting on Wednesday mornings at Thelma's house at which the rector was in charge. We loved the meeting, but we didn't have any idea what we were doing. This will shatter you, but we used to take turns praying in tongues. You see, we didn't know the rules -- and we didn't know the Bible either! Finally I decided I wasn't going to take my turn anymore unless I felt an actual desire to speak in tongues. Father agreed that was a good idea. When people stopped praying in the Spirit in the group, and only spoke in tongues when they felt a "push" from the Spirit to do so, something interesting began to happen. After someone had spoken in tongues someone else would say in amazement, "I know what he said," and would proceed to interpret. Others could confirm the interpretation because they had received the same one. To us it was remarkable.
But every now and then something would come up that we didn't understand at all. It appeared to me that if the Pentecostals had known of this dimension all along, they might be able to supply some of the answers. So I would check the telephone book and telephone three Pentecostal ministers and (without giving my name) describe to them what had happened, asking for the explanation. If they all concurred, I decided that must be the answer and told Father what they said. Father then explained it to the group, and few of them ever knew where it had actually originated. I frequently tell the Pentecostals that if we don't have the same doctrine it's because no three of them could agree!
At that time one of the chief sources of information was the Rev. Leslie Hodges. Since then he told a minister friend that during that year he had a full-time pastoral ministry by telephone!
Many people have told me of the difficulty they have had with Pentecostals. The ministers we had contact with had been prepared by God to help us, and they used great wisdom and remarkable restraint. I remember one minister particularly -- we'll call him Mr. Smith, primarily because that is his name. Mr. Smith had what is known as a "holiness" background and was violently opposed to smoking, among other things. At that time I smoked about three packages daily. I buttonholed him one time (looking for an argument) and said I couldn't see anything wrong with smoking. He quietly said that he thought I was quite right -- that in the past they had put too much emphasis on outward things. It took the wind right out of my saids. If he had argued with me, I might still be smoking. As it was, within a month I had stopped cold and I have never smoked since. Mr. Hodges once told me that as I was such a serious Christian and it had taken me that long to stop smoking, I should be sure I never attempted to badger anyone. Instead, I should allow God to handle it His way.
There were things that we didn't agree with (and still don't) in Pentecostal doctrine and Pentecostal church services. But we found that the ministers didn't even agree with those things themselves. They were not born of conviction but of tradition. We have tried to do away with this tradition and the legalism of past generations in the prayer groups we have begun, but without the Pentecostals we wouldn't have known what to avoid or what to stress. The telephone ministry was a great help to us. And for me, personally, it was a real source of comfort to have someone spiritual I could really talk to, because about this time things exploded at St. Mark's. When I think back upon my weekly hour-long telephone calls to Mr. Smith and Mr. Hodges during that period, I realize that the recital of my adventures must have sounded to them like "The Perils of Pauline."
Click here for the Table of Contents
The curate was in charge of the youth group. He was driving two members home and they stopped in Denny's Coffee Shop for a coke. The kids said something was happening in the parish, and they wanted to know what it was. The curate said he wasn't allowed to tell. They kept at him, so he told them a bit. And right there in Denny's Coffee Shop, the Holy Spirit came upon those two teen-agers and tears came into their eyes as they asked to received. The curate called the rector. The rector said no.
The curate escorted them to the car, where they sat and shook and cried until he prayed for them and they began to speak in new languages.
A crippled woman was healed and drove her car home from church. A woman was instantaneously healed of shingles. Atheists and agnostics became Christians. Lackadaisical believers became keen Christians who gave ten percent of their income to God and shared Jesus Christ with anyone who would listen. Sad people turned happy. Overly introspective people grew interested in others. It was an exciting time.
One day I was driving and singing in the Spirit. Suddenly I knew what I was singing in the language God had given me. I was singing part of the words of an old song, but to a different tune, and it had something else tacked on:
"Go out through the streets and the byways,
Preach the word to the many or few;
For I'm calling them into the Kingdom,
And I'm calling them in through you."
It was interesting but it couldn't really be the interpretation, I thought; God only used men in our church. The Spirit was beginning to teach us, but at that time we still did not have ears to hear.
One day my friend Thelma and I were having breakfast at the International House of Pancakes. Over the pancakes and boysenberry syrup, I told her about my experience with the Holy Spirit. Her answer was, "I'm very happy for you, Jean, but you've always been more religious than I am."
Not long after, I was in her apartment in Van Nuys and her daughter, Nancy, was there as well. Of course we were talking about the Holy Spirit and the incredible happenings. What could be half so fascinating? In the middle of it I said, "Nancy, I understand why you don't want to receive the gift until your husband does, but Thelma, I can't understand why you don't want to."
In a small voice Nancy said, "I want to."
Thelma spoke out with, "Who said I didn't want to?"
I felt like the punch line in the joke: "Oh, my God, what do I do now?" Only I was serious.
I telephoned the rector to ask him to pray for Thelma and Nancy. He was out of town. In desperation I resorted to trying to reach some layman. No one was available. Thelma said, "Can't you pray for us?"
"Well," I thought, "There's no harm in trying." We all three prayed and asked God to pour out His Holy Spirit and He did and they both had new languages. I had learned a curious truth: God even uses women.
One night after guild meeting, while driving a young housewife to her home, I found myself saying, "Have you heard about the Holy Spirit?"
She looked at me as though I had lost my mind and answered, "Of course I've heard about the Holy Spirit."
"No, I mean what He is doing in the parish."
"I don't think so. Tell me." And it all tumbled out. She went home and awakened her husband at 1:00 AM to tell him what was going on. A day or so later she invited me to visit her. She made it clear that she wasn't interested in participating -- just curious. As I was relating some of teh extraordinary happenings and reading passages from one of Agnes Sanford's books, she interrupted.
"I want it."
"What?"
"I want to receive right now." And she did -- a rich and beautiful language of praise and worship to which I received the interpretation. We were both happy enough to burst. God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world!
I don't mean to give the impression that everything was perfect all the time -- far from it. Some people were jealous and remained so. Others became disloyal to their friends, and pressure intensified this character trait rather than improving it. And there was pressure. Two of the priests of the parish had received the gift, and two were violently opposed. This naturally caused tension. For myself, I think I did everything wrong it is possible to do. We were very new and confused and like apple trees in the spring -- our fruit was small and green. But God was good and sent us a bit of help.
A number of us had remained very naive about the Christian community. We still thought God revolved around our particular segment of the Church. Surprisingly enough, we thought we were the Church.
For me the change began when Father whispered to me one day, "I'll tell you something if you won't tell anyone."
"Yes?"
"The other day I went to a place that was very strange. There were a lot of people there and some of them were rather odd looking. There were young people, old people, poor people and rich people. But they all had one thing in common: they loved Jesus."
I asked if I could take a friend and go. He agreed and told me how to get there. He had made it sound so mysterious that I was apprehensive. I almost expected to have to knowck on a door and say, "Joe sent me" to an eye peering through a peephole.
It wasn't like that at all. Everyone bought his own breakfast in a cafeteria and went upstairs to eat it. Afterward they sang and people told of good things that God had accomplished in their lives. In the middle of the service, the telephone rang. The leader was called to the telephone and came back visibly shaken. He said his four-day-old granddaughter was dying of jaundice. He asked a young man to pray for the granddaughter. The young man prayed into the microphone and asked God to heal the baby. Then he quietly began to speak in tongues. I didn't know the language he was speaking, but from God I received the sense of what was said. I turned to my friend and whispered, "He said, 'I am the Lord thy God. I have healed before and I will heal this baby.'"
A young man stood up and said, "Danny spoke French. I don't speak French very well, but I could understand some of it. God said the baby would be healed." He sat down.
A man close to us stood up and said, "I majored in French and speak it well. I have written down what was said in French and have translated it for you." He held up the paper. Above the French words was written, more or less, this translation: "I am the Lord thy God. I have healed before and I will heal this baby."
I don't need to tell you that the baby was healed. Of course she was, but we didn't find that out until later. However, we felt we had seen a miracle. It was the first time we had ever known someone under the influence of the Holy Spirit to speak a known language, someone else to receive the interpretation from God, and a third party to be able to translate the language. To us it seemed an extraordinary experience. Now it no longer seems so, since I have seen it happen many times. Always wonderful, but not extraordinary.
We dashed back to Van Nuys and the rector's house to share what had happened. Paul Castle was there, questioning the rector about the unorthodox occurrences at St. Mark's. I knew Paul well. He was an usher in the church and used to take photographs free of charge to advertise our fashion shows. What I didn't know was that he was an atheist.
We poured out our story. Can you imagine the effect of this on an atheist? Paul knew us; he knew we weren't crazy and we weren't liars. If this had really happaned, and it obviously had, then there must be a God. If there is a God, He might very well have a Son Jesus Christ --
Paul isn't an atheist anymore. He is one of the most active Christian layman I knew -- and now, thirteen years later, he is entering seminary.
So that's how we came into contact with the Pentecostals. Previous to this I thought we were the only people in the world who spoke in tongues -- the only apples in a whole basket of oranges. What a relief to find other apples in the basket!
We had a prayer meeting on Wednesday mornings at Thelma's house at which the rector was in charge. We loved the meeting, but we didn't have any idea what we were doing. This will shatter you, but we used to take turns praying in tongues. You see, we didn't know the rules -- and we didn't know the Bible either! Finally I decided I wasn't going to take my turn anymore unless I felt an actual desire to speak in tongues. Father agreed that was a good idea. When people stopped praying in the Spirit in the group, and only spoke in tongues when they felt a "push" from the Spirit to do so, something interesting began to happen. After someone had spoken in tongues someone else would say in amazement, "I know what he said," and would proceed to interpret. Others could confirm the interpretation because they had received the same one. To us it was remarkable.
But every now and then something would come up that we didn't understand at all. It appeared to me that if the Pentecostals had known of this dimension all along, they might be able to supply some of the answers. So I would check the telephone book and telephone three Pentecostal ministers and (without giving my name) describe to them what had happened, asking for the explanation. If they all concurred, I decided that must be the answer and told Father what they said. Father then explained it to the group, and few of them ever knew where it had actually originated. I frequently tell the Pentecostals that if we don't have the same doctrine it's because no three of them could agree!
At that time one of the chief sources of information was the Rev. Leslie Hodges. Since then he told a minister friend that during that year he had a full-time pastoral ministry by telephone!
Many people have told me of the difficulty they have had with Pentecostals. The ministers we had contact with had been prepared by God to help us, and they used great wisdom and remarkable restraint. I remember one minister particularly -- we'll call him Mr. Smith, primarily because that is his name. Mr. Smith had what is known as a "holiness" background and was violently opposed to smoking, among other things. At that time I smoked about three packages daily. I buttonholed him one time (looking for an argument) and said I couldn't see anything wrong with smoking. He quietly said that he thought I was quite right -- that in the past they had put too much emphasis on outward things. It took the wind right out of my saids. If he had argued with me, I might still be smoking. As it was, within a month I had stopped cold and I have never smoked since. Mr. Hodges once told me that as I was such a serious Christian and it had taken me that long to stop smoking, I should be sure I never attempted to badger anyone. Instead, I should allow God to handle it His way.
There were things that we didn't agree with (and still don't) in Pentecostal doctrine and Pentecostal church services. But we found that the ministers didn't even agree with those things themselves. They were not born of conviction but of tradition. We have tried to do away with this tradition and the legalism of past generations in the prayer groups we have begun, but without the Pentecostals we wouldn't have known what to avoid or what to stress. The telephone ministry was a great help to us. And for me, personally, it was a real source of comfort to have someone spiritual I could really talk to, because about this time things exploded at St. Mark's. When I think back upon my weekly hour-long telephone calls to Mr. Smith and Mr. Hodges during that period, I realize that the recital of my adventures must have sounded to them like "The Perils of Pauline."
Click here for the Table of Contents
# posted by LeeSun @ 2:32 pm 
