Wednesday, January 10, 2018

40 Years Ago Today I Left a Cult: Choosing Biblical Integrity and Freedom Instead

Today is the 40th anniversary of Tuesday, January 10, 1978, when my wife and I, along with twelve others, were the first group to publicly depart a nasty cult. It is as fully depraved as ever, these four decades letter. Below is a post from January 27, 2014 that describes it.


"I was Once Deceived -- 'In Normantown.'"

Lakeview Christian Life Church, Bridgeville, PA, on Citysearch.


In this series of "TEI stories," my purpose is to share personal anecdotes from across the years where my interaction with the Gospel and others is in view. The prior four stories in this blog go back to my college years and right after, and this one does too. A biblical faith is an honest one - in the sight of God and one another. So here, let me be candid about the time I was deceived, and how thankful I am that God's grace turned me from it.

Eight months prior to my deception, in January, 1974, I took "J term" for college credit, done at Grace Haven Farms in Mansfield, Ohio. It was at the apex of the "Jesus Movement" years, and Grace Haven leased a 360-acre farm and had a lodge not unlike Francis Schaeffer's L'Abri in Switzerland, where there and here, many college students and others engaged the Gospel. It was a wonderful ministry, forty years later Grace Fellowship Church remains, and I have good friends there still.

During the month I did farm work and was involved in community life. When it was my time to cook breakfast for sixty people, I decided not to go the scrambled eggs route, but cooked eggs to order, sunny-side-up or easy-over. I had to work a furious pace, enjoyed it immensely and was especially satisfied that I only broke one egg yolk in the process. Then I enjoyed my own easy-over eggs.

A significant part of the program was study. Here I read in depth about some Protestant offshoots of the nineteenth century that deviated from the biblical teachings on the nature of the Trinity - Mormonism, Christian Science and (the later named) Jehovah's Witnesses.

Back at Denison University in February, I was walking across campus and remember praying, in view of having studied these deceitful religions: "Lord, I thank you that I cannot be deceived because of how much I love you." God have mercy (and he did) - I actually prayed these words, and what a foolish and proud statement. Not unlike the self-righteous Pharisee in Luke 18:10-14:

"Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men - robbers, evildoers, adulterers - or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.' But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.' I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."

In other words, I set myself up to be deceived, and it came to pass from September, 1974, to January, 1978. Some friends in college and just married, Rick and Noel, with both being seniors, were eager to find "apostolic" authority. With them, my wife-to-be, Nancy, and I, visited a small satellite church outside Columbus, Ohio, when the overseeing "apostle" from the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, area came to visit. His name was Norman H. James. In truth, I was deeply wary, yet Nancy and I both thought we kept attending because the other one was - in a crazy season in courtship that had not yet come to engagement.

Nonetheless, Norman had some eccentric and false doctrines (though he was within confessional Nicene orthodoxy), and I eventually bought into at least two of them. In fact, our friend who led us to this church actually cajoled me into one. These were doctrines that were exclusivist, where Norman believed that the "true born-again church" was a very small portion of the larger church, he was at the center of it, and was the real (if yet to be acknowledged) Apostle of the "true" church. He proved to be a prima donna, expecting people to submit to his professed authority, no questions de facto allowed.

In early 1976, Norman ordered that his various small satellite churches all move to Pittsburgh, and they did so by the subsequent fall. "Prophecy" and twisted scriptures made this seem to be the great movement of establishing the "true" church with its worldwide epicenter in Pittsburgh, and Norman believed that Pittsburgh had been "given" to him by the Lord as his spiritual fiefdom. He encouraged people to drop out of college if need be, or transfer to a college in Pittsburgh, or leave secure jobs, including a friend, George, who left after 19 years as a government computer programmer, losing all his accrued benefits set to kick in after 20 years. One exception was made for a favored couple, Dan and Joanne, while the Dan was finishing pharmaceutical school.

Norman also directed the college students, explicitly, to lie to their parents as to why they were moving to Pittsburgh. I did not buy into this, but also, I had no risk because I was graduating that spring. Nonetheless, I told my father why I was moving there. Nancy was able, by God's grace, to do her senior year at Chatham College in Pittsburgh, and also earn her K-3 teaching certificate not possible at Denison (where she was an art major), all her scholarship monies transferred, and she graduated the following spring from Denison.

Norman was legalistic and petty in micromanaging people's lives, using the image of the "plumb line" accordingly, and in fact cajoled into existence perhaps several dozen marriages in the Pittsburgh church (actually located in the South Hills through various locales until property was bought, under several names over the years; they are virtually invisible on the internet today). The church had a large ratio of new college graduates, and people of the same age, while Norman was a high school graduate raised Roman Catholic before becoming Pentecostal/charismatic. He preached marriage, and through proxies and the pulpit, insisted that all the single men and women soon find a spouse within the church. The order was given. They did so, almost without exception, as on assignment. Thankfully, by this time my Nancy and I were already engaged, having a history well prior to this church, and we married in August, 1977, following her graduation.

While in this church, I was known as one who actually knew the Bible. I was only 21-24 years old in this season. Norman and most the leadership knew it largely as a series of proof-texts, whereas in my prior experience in 1) reading the Bible relentlessly, in whole books and always seeking to learn context, 2) the Anglican liturgies from the Book of Common Prayer, along with the hymns, in prep school, 3) my involvement in the Fellowship of Christians in University and Schools, 4) in InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, and 5) in learning some skeptical as well as honest biblical scholarship in college, I was wired and prepared to learn the whole biblical storyline on its own terms. And too, my upbringing (see the first blog post from March 9, 2010) blessed me with a love of hard questions. And yet, these forty years later, I know how little of the Bible I then knew, how much more I now know, which also means I now know more how little I know compared with what there is to be known.

Then the explosion. Norman was forcing a friend of mine (the former government computer programmer, George), to resign as an elder for the "sin" of - hold your breath - having his two older sons attend the youth group of a different church. Norman's church, aka in my own language, "Normantown," had no such youth group as the demographics were so young. Norman was requiring this man to lie as to why he was resigning as an elder of one of the house churches (small groups in the larger church), and not to tell anyone ahead of time. But George's wife Pat couldn't hold it in, she told me and Nancy, with George present, in December, 1977. So along with some petty hypocrisies evident, the four of us decided to leave the church. When I made the decision, it was a breath of fresh air to my soul. Awaking from a toxic fog.

Norman was planning to come to the Wednesday, January 11, 1978 scheduled house church meeting, to oversee my friend's resignation, and appoint a new elder (Dan, the pharmacist). George thus, in fear, called the meeting for the prior evening, January 10, in secret, to announce the real reasons why he was resigning. He taped it in order to give it to Norman (which he followed through on). Ten others joined us in choosing to leave the church - the first public exodus from Normantown. But one woman in the house church, Maggie, was horrified, and immediately called Norman. The fury was so great that Norman phoned all the elders, and word of such "infamy" spread like wildfire through the church. Norman also phoned the fourteen of us through the night, and called an emergency meeting of the whole church the next night - some two hundred people - to publicly decry and "dis-fellowship" (excommunicate) all of us ex post facto. He also directed that no one in the church communicate with any of us. We were to be "shunned."

Our neighbors in the apartment above us, in a two-family home, Lenny and Colleen (having also a young child), were members of the church, so they immediately shunned us. And, as it so happened, I was switching jobs that week, taking a slightly better paying job in retail management, and had two days off in the interim. So Lenny, making a momentary exception, seeing me at home for two days in the middle of the work week, asked me if I had lost my job. The expectation in the church was that those who left it would be cursed by their own "sin" of leaving, and descend into personal turmoil and failure in work and marriage. When I answered Lenny, he was crestfallen. Another man in the church, Jim, saw me in traffic some weeks later, and oh, the glare of his eyes upon me. May God have mercy - they were entrapped in a cult.

My wife and I then visited the leader of Grace Fellowship Church ministries in Mansfield, Ray, who along with his wife Eunice, were so hospitable to us. He concluded by saying I should be in seminary, and it came to pass for the fall. As it is, Norman, at that time, prohibited people from going to seminary, and generally disparaged higher education.

However, I knew that having a secret meeting on January 10 was not the right way to go about it, even though it was not my decision. George was in deathly fear of Norman, and he acted accordingly.

So, in February, I wrote Norman and said as much, and reiterated the reasons why we left. He was so enthusiastic in receiving the letter, thinking we might be persuaded to return to the church - to "snatch us from the fire" as it were - that he personally rushed over to our apartment, while I was at work and my wife was at home (not knowing either variable), knocking on the door. I never did dislike the man, and intuitively have always felt the grace of God can reach his heart. We met with him and an associate pastor some time later, we told him further why we left, and I also asked some questions about his theology and his conduct relative to our friends. Norman said he found no fault in us, only fault in the people with whom we associated in leaving the church. And he invited us to rejoin the church, where "exciting" things were happening - "The Spirit is on the move." It turns out that the associate pastor also later left the church.

Nancy and I responded, 1) we find no fault in our friendships, 2) no thank you to the invitation to return to the church, and 3) we are heading off to seminary. Then he said, "You can go to seminary while staying in the church." We demurred. But I concluded the conversation something like this: "Norman, now that we have had this conversation, I trust that if ever we cross paths again, we will do so as friends." He did not disagree, but still, such a resolution was not his purpose for the meeting.

And indeed, when my schedule had me coming through Pittsburgh in 1989, I wrote Norman ahead of time to arrange a visit where my interest was in an open-ended theological conversation, separate from the details of our departure from the church. In receiving no reply, I called the church office, he was unavailable to talk, but his eldest son, also named Norman (but not Jr.), spoke with me. Yet, no meeting was possible with his father. "Little Norman," as he was then called, was a teenager in 1977, and once I took him and his next oldest brother, and the two eldest sons of my friend, to a Pittsburgh Pirate's game. I liked him, and in the 1989 phone conversation, it was pleasant enough. When I was in town in 1998, I tried to set up a meeting with Norman (the elder), and no reply. Several years ago, I sent a copy of my one of books, The Six Pillars of Biblical Power, to Norman (the younger) who had since become senior pastor. No response.

This I did in a proactive attempt to lift up Jesus, even though I knew some of the hell into which the church has descended in the meantime. I only know a few details of these intervening years, not even scratching the surface I am sure. In the 1990s, our college friends were divorced, de facto at Norman's behest. Noel started questioning Norman and his wife, it was unacceptable, and sometime later Rick unilaterally divorced her and locked her out of the house penniless, with virtually no possessions. This we learned, because she and my wife talked at some length on the phone afterward. It turns out, too, that there were quite a few married couples where divorce was insisted upon by the leadership in Normantown, because one spouse was asking impermissible questions, and better it was in Normantown to keep one person in the church, than to have them both leave and keep the marriage intact. One such woman unilaterally divorced by her husband was Maggie, then single, who in our house church in 1978, was initially horrified by our "rebellion" in Normantown and had immediately called Norman. Years later Maggie had questions, but they were not permitted ...

This is a hallmark of idolatry. Norman and his group of pliant elders, on the one hand, insisted on marriage for the young adults within the church, in the name of the biblical covenant; but on the other, as soon as one spouse began to challenge Norman's authority, divorce was decreed. Indeed, membership in Normantown meant being "married" to Normantown. When I last heard from my friend Rick, who had led us into the church, it was in a letter in the spring of 1979 when I was in seminary. I had sent him an announcement of the birth of our first son the prior October. He was cordial, but also said that he had no purpose in further communications since I had "divorced" myself from the church.

Now, when I invent a term that invents itself, "Normantown," some may think of "Jonestown." I am not making this analogy, for the members of Normantown may live in a cult (and their church property and adjoining neighborhood of houses occupied by members gives it a geographical fortress mentality), but they also work real jobs in the outside economy. I pray they have no such willingness to literally drink poisoned Kool Aid, and I highly doubt its possibility; but the idolatry in place is just as dangerous to the soul. Various people in Normantown, when I was there, treated Norman's words as the Word of God, even over the Bible at junctures. As I began to realize this, my soul was already preparing to depart Normantown.

In the 1990s I met a minister of the Gospel in a meeting in Connecticut, who pastored a church in the Mount Washington section of Pittsburgh in the 1970s, Joseph Garlington. He has since preached the Gospel internationally and extensively. He knew Norman well, and said to me that he has never met a man more practiced in the art of manipulating other people. Let me add though, manipulators are virtually always first manipulated in their youths, insecurity of the soul thus multiplies, and a vicious cycle ensues where manipulation of others is an internal hedge against being manipulated, a cycle that needs to be broken for all concerned.

By God's grace, we escaped. I was deceivable due to foolish pride. "Fool me once and shame on you; fool me twice and shame on me." And as a result, as I began seminary, I focused on the biblical ethics of freedom, "no coercion in the Gospel" as I then phrased it, and my life has been thus shaped. Do pray for those still in Normantown, that God's grace may happily interrupt their lives too, though in truth, for those who have been there thirty or forty years, the die is deeply cast. But nothing is impossible to God.


[Addendum: January 28 - the church has no website, but after this posting, I discovered a place where many former members vent themselves, the CitySearch site linked at the top; February 6 - I added my own comments]

Sunday, January 7, 2018

The Proactive Structure of the Lord's Prayer

As noted in my prior post, Pope Francis is concerned that the Roman Church's traditional translation of the Lord's Prayer might confuse believers, so as to think God might somehow lead them into temptation.

But his new rendering only produces an opposite problem, introducing a passive tense and voice not in the grammar. Thus, I have challenged him on lexicographic, grammatical and theological grounds. Let me further address the latter.

There are four all-defining subjects within the prayer. Here they are, followed by each of the four lines of the prayer from the original Greek:

1. Family – Our Father in the heavens, holy is your Name.
2. Politics – Your kingdom come, your will be done, in heaven and on earth.
3. Economics – Give us today our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
4. Spiritual Warfare – And do not bring us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.

I teach a whole 2-3 hour seminar unpacking this prayer, and go into the reasons why I believe such a translation is accurate. For here, focusing on the clause in question, let me make these observations.

1. The prayer involves a) complete dependency on the goodness of God's kingship, b) calling for his kingdom to come, and thus c) acting in life accordingly.
2. If we do not know how this is the foundation for an overcoming proactive faith (e.g., the letters to the seven churches
in Revelation, v. 2:7 and its repetitions), we can easily slip into a passive, defensive mode.
3. So whereas it is folly to seek to oppose the evil one on our own initiatives, it is folly not to take the authority, led by the Spirit, to drive out demons in personal and political contexts, as Jesus commissioned his disciples.
4. When Jesus is led by the Spirit into the testings/temptations of the devil, he is the One with the proactive power to defeat the evil one. We pray that God will not lead us into the same testing, but based on what Jesus has done, to take his victory his employ it actively in his Name.

In my book, Genesis and the Power of True Assumptions (Second Edition), available at, the whole theological foundation in Parts I and II of the book lead to Part III and its focus on spiritual warfare. Those who know this biblical territory will readily see how the Lord's Prayer is the foundation for a proactive and overcoming faith, and how there is no passive tense in the Christian life.


Matthew 4

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Is the Pope Mistaken in his Revision of the Lord's Prayer?

Pope Francis is recommending that the Lord's Prayer be revised in one clause, for use in the Roman Catholic Church.

Namely, he says: "Lead us not into temptation" should be rendered "Do not let us fall into temptation."

There are deep problems with this change, and it is not a matter of distinction between the Roman church on the one hand, and the Orthodox and Protestant communions, on the other. It is a matter of the biblical text to which we all name allegiance.

My concerns are lexicographical, grammatical and theological.

Let's walk through the concerns.

1. Lexicography: In the Greek of Matthew 6:13, the verb in play is eisphero, and most simply means to "bring in." It cannot be rendered "fall into."

2. Grammatically, this verb is rendered eiseinegkes, which means it is in the subjunctive aorist active tense. Subjunctive refers to "possibility" (to be brought or not to be brought into temptation); aorist refers to a simple past or indefinite tense with no sense of duration; and the active refers to actions directly taken, as opposed to falling into something passively. Thus, the actual text in the prayer is: "Do not bring us into temptation."

But the Pope changes it to "Do not let us fall into temptation." Now, the prior renderings of the Lord's Prayer -- in Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism and Protestantism -- use "Lead us not" or "Do not lead us" as a way to say "Do not bring us." And this nuance of difference is not problematic. In both these different renditions, it remains a prayer about how God leads us. He does lead us, he does bring us (or "carry us forward" as it can be additionally rendered in the Greek).

The problem for the Pope is that "lead us not," as opposed to "do not let us fall," suggests that God tempts us to sin, not the devil or sinful human nature (e.g., James 1:13-14). The Pope wants, as it were, to protect God's character as holy, apart from the devil or human sin.

So, out of concern to protect Roman Catholics from such a wrong view of God, the Pope is willing to change the lexicography and grammar of the biblical text. Why? This leads us into theological factors, or how we study and understand the whole Bible.

3. Theology: In Matthew 4:1, we read: "Then Jesus was led (anago) into the wilderness under the Spirit, to be tested [or tempted] by the devil." And in v. 3, "the tempter" comes to test him. When the Lord's Prayer is read by the Jewish audience of Matthew's gospel, in chapter six, it is very soon after the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness in chapter four. These readers, and we, can easily see how Jesus -- as the Son of God -- faces the devil head-on. The devil misquotes Scripture, twisting it to try and deceive Jesus. But Jesus knows the written Word inside out, himself being the Living Word (logos in John 1:1) to begin with, and the devil cannot comprehend/overcome it (katalambano in John 1:5). So the devil departs, and the temptations are vitiated.

Accordingly, we we pray, "Do not bring us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one," we do so in light of two realities. First, Jesus has been led into the most severe of temptations to overcome them on our behalf. And second, we know we cannot handle such temptations in our own persons. Thus, there is no sense that God tempts us. He has brought Jesus into the path of temptation so that he delivers us from it.

Thus, I do not see in the Greek text the fear that people will think God tempts them. I am glad for any input.

In my next post, I will look at the deeper issue, namely:

*** In this language change for the Lord's Prayer, Pope Francis inadvertently renders an active faith passive, and robs believers of spiritual authority in the face of temptation, indeed, of the tempter himself.***


Wednesday, November 1, 2017

The 50th Anniversary of my Conversion

[excerpted from The Six Pillars of Biblical Power by John C. Rankin, see]

From age seven, I grew up in a church in the Unitarian-Universalist Association (UUA), and there I was taught to be a skeptic of the Bible. My father had moved from a Presbyterian church where he was affronted by judgmentalness, then from a Congregational church where he was dismayed by serious hypocrisy, and wound up in the UUA because the minister was intelligent and faithful to his wife.

My upbringing was healthy, where my father as a physician loved to care for people, loved and respected my mother (who died just after I finished college), loved the five of us children. My early years were not polluted by poverty, fratricide, divorce or one of a number of other toxins that assault children. Thus, I was free to wonder about the universe. When I was reading an early manuscript of this book to my father, then 90 with failing eyesight, and I came to this juncture, he mused with laughter, and said, “You know John, as a young boy you were always thinking.” The gift of thinking – so very precious, and something I have always pursued.

As an eight-year old, in the fall of 1961, our Sunday School teacher read to us the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand men (plus women and children). She said up front, “And of course, we know that miracles cannot occur.” I thought to myself, Why not? I was skeptical. She continued to explain how what really happened was that Jesus inspired thousands of selfish people to unstuff their tunics, which were full of bread and fish, and share them with each other, all because Jesus inspired one little boy to bring forth his five small barley loaves and two small fish.

I thought she was explaining too much, even though I had yet to learn of the social impossibility of such in first-century Jewish life, where modern individualism is a foreign concept. The people are away from the town spontaneously, it is late, no provisions have been made, and whatever food they have they naturally share with one another, beginning with the needs of the children.

Then, in the winter of 1962, our teacher turned to the Old Testament, starting with Genesis. She gave a detailed explanation of how Genesis was a primitive myth among primitive people who did not know science or other modern means of knowledge. So I thought, If it is a myth, why bother? I was again skeptical.

Skepticism is good if used in pursuit of the truth. The goal is to test everything equally to see what proves true and what does not. That which proves true can be embraced with confidence, along with the freedom for the risk-taking nature of faith that follows. But skepticism employed to avoid the truth does not serve the good, nor true power. Thus, to be skeptical of the Bible is fine; it is a question of why, and to what end. Truth proves itself to the honest skeptic – and the truth of the six pillars of biblical power proves satisfying.

In reading this portion of the manuscript to my father, he again laughed heartedly and in agreement, quoting the Latin for being “skeptical of skepticism.”

In my skepticism of skepticism at this early age, I was rooted in a prior amazement at my existence in the face of an awesome universe. I remember wondering where space ended. To find out, I hitched a ride with Flash Gordon (that will date me and define my reference) and traveled to the end of the universe. And do you know what we found? A brick wall with the words posted on it, “End of Universe.” Now it was a little comforting that in the age of Sputnik that the sign was in English and not Russian. But it was also unsatisfying. What was on the other side? And what was on the other side of the next wall?

Then there are the questions about time and number. What happens one minute after time ends, or what is the biggest number? What is the biggest number plus one? And on and on. No one can deny the reality that this known universe, in which we can measure our existence, is bounded by the necessary and helpful concepts of space, time and number. And we all acknowledge that since we can describe the limitations of these measurement devices, there must be something greater. And yet we cannot wrap ourselves around that which is greater, for we are finite and limited. Where does such a trajectory take us?

In the face of this trajectory, I was nonetheless a self-conscious agnostic by age 14. An “agnostic” is usually a term for someone who does not know if there is a God (from the Greek roots a + gnosis, “to be without knowledge”). But it was an open-ended and positive agnosticism, which is to say I was always impressed by the beauty of the universe and amazed by my own existence and self-awareness. I was open to whatever truth proved to be, open to the idea of God. But I did not know one way or the other in the summer of 1967.

I was in Boy Scout camp, and each Sunday we were required to attend chapel service. One Sunday morning, as I was getting dressed, one of my tent mates was resting on his bunk bed. I asked him why he was not getting ready. He answered, “I am an atheist.” So I asked him, “What is an atheist?” He said that it meant he does not believe in God, and all I had to do to get out of chapel was to tell the scoutmaster that I was an atheist. I said, “But I don’t know.” So I went to chapel.

That September, I began ninth grade (“third form”) at South Kent School, a small prep boarding school for boys in the Housatonic highlands of western Connecticut. South Kent had a daily chapel schedule rooted in the Episcopal liturgy.

It was required, but I determined not to participate, saying to myself, I don’t believe this stuff. So I did not sing, recite, pray, genuflect or take communion. But that proved a “dangerous” thing to do. For while other students were participating at one level or another, I ended up occupying my mind reading the words of the liturgy and hymns, as they were recited and sung. I was interested in the possible existence of God.

On November 1, 1967, All Saints Day in the Anglican calendar, I was standing outside the chapel in the interlude before walking down the hill to dinner. As the air pricked my spine, I felt alive. It was delightfully cold, and in those rural hills the Milky Way was exceptionally clear that evening – like a white paint stroke against a black canvas. I considered its awesome grandeur and beauty, and then I posed to myself this sequence of thought:

If there is a God, then he must have made all this for a purpose, and that purpose must include my existence, and it must include the reason I am asking this question. And if this is true, then I need to get plugged into him.

I wanted to know either way, and I was convinced that if there were a God, then it would be most natural to become rooted in my origins. To be radical before I knew what radical meant. But I wanted verification. The “if” clauses were real.

This was a commitment to myself, in the sight of the universe, in the sight of a possible God. It was in fact a prayer to an unknown God.

The next evening, November 2, All Souls Day in the Anglican calendar, I was the first student into chapel, taking my assigned seating in the small balcony. As I sat down and looked forward in the empty sanctuary, I said under my breath, “Good evening God.” Immediately I retorted to myself, “Wait a minute John. You don’t even know if there is a God. How can you say ‘good evening’ to him?”

But also immediately, I became aware of a reality that was prior to and deeper than the intellect, of a truth that held the answer to any and all of my questions. There was a God, I knew deep within me, and I knew that I had just lied to myself by saying I did not know, even though it was only now that I knew I knew. My heart knew before my mind knew, but as part of the whole that my mind was now grasping. I had yet to speak it (see Romans 10:9-10). Thus, I mark my conversion from the night before when I posed the question of God’s existence in the face of his beautiful universe.

In this moment, God’s presence ratified the reality of my belief as I simultaneously discerned a Presence literally hovering over me, filling the entire balcony. And, critically, this Presence was hovering and waiting for my response. It was powerful, inviting and embracing. This all happened within a moment’s time, and I realized that I did believe. No sooner had I exhaled my agnostic retort, did I then inhale and say, “Yes I do (believe).” As I did, this literal presence of God descended upon and filled my entire being – heart, soul, mind and body.

Now I knew nothing at the time of the divine name and nature of Yahweh’s presence and glory, as experienced by the Israelites in the exodus community with the tabernacle, and later in Solomon’s temple. Nor did I know anything of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Yet the grace of God came into my life that November evening, as he but gently crossed my path with a touch of his Presence. I asked an intellectual question in view of an awesome universe, and was answered by the Presence of the awesome Creator.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Senators Murphy & Blumenthal: Have You Read the 1844 Gun Control Critique by Nathaniel Hawthorne?

I have met Chris Murphy and Richard Blumenthal face-to-face, exactly one time each. They are the two U.S. Senators from Connecticut, my home state.

In both cases, they were condescending as they sought to cut off any honest questions about subjects they do not want to talk about.

And when it comes to certain gun violence, such as the Las Vegas massacre, their answers are to draft laws that force people into compliance with their own senatorial self-righteous sermonettes.

What, though, is the source of such evil? The good is anything that humanizes people, and evil is anything that dehumanizes people.

In 1844, Nathaniel Hawthorne publishes a short story entitled Earth's Holocaust. On a wide plain in the Midwest United States, all the world leaders decide to gather and burn everything evil, to a crisp, especially all weapons and war munitions.

An observer to this holocaust is delighted. But then, a man standing next to him points out that Cain needed no weapon to kill his brother. As well, the burning of all evil instruments fails to purify the "foul cavern" of the human heart. Thus, he says, after this great fire consumes all forms of weapons, new ones will be manufactured.

Senators Murphy and Blumenthal: Have you read this short story by Nathaniel Hawthorne? Can you argue that he is mistaken? How do your proposed laws purify the human heart and stop gun violence?

Friday, March 17, 2017

Transgender Pain for Mother and Son

As we read about a mother and son in Detroit seeking to “transition” to a “father” and “daughter” – and apart from politics – what is the human story underneath?

In terms of the “transgender” question, this is just the new word for cross-dressing, an update to the old word, transvestite. But now add to it hormone manipulation ...

In ministry in Boston many years ago, I learned the reality that men (or boys) who dress as women do so in order to become their own “women,” wanting the feminine but not being able – for various reasons – to trust or know how to relate to real women. And this is overwhelmingly in the absence of a loving and present father who knows how to treat the boy’s mother.

Which brings us to the mother in this equation. Three lesbians at Harvard, with whom I was studying in the 1980s, told me that every lesbian they knew had been sexually, physically and/or emotionally abused in their youth by some man, usually a step-father, live-in boyfriend, some other older male in the immediate or extended family, or outside of it, but quite rarely the biological father himself. The same reality is found in the male homosexual world, but with different dynamics at play.

When the biological father chooses to absent himself, this is the prior, and indeed, the deepest trauma and rejection. All the sufferings of those whom he abandons find their source in what precedes and leads to his departure.

The testimony of these Harvard women is anecdotal as it is dynamic, and over the years I have discovered how it is very prevalent. These violated girls and young women cannot later trust men, and in their midst, those who seek to become “trans” are seeking to become their own “men” as a means by to protect themselves from abusive men. This is also true for heterosexual women who identify with the “GLBTQ” world, who for their own and oftentimes similar reasons, seek a sense of safety in becoming their own “men.”

Thus, here, to what extent are the divorced mother and her son complementary sufferers? What might Dad have wrought, he who, in this case, is “okay” with their “transgendering?” The “transgendered” mother now calls herself the “second father” to the “transgendered” boy who calls himself a “girl.” Ontology reversed.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

The Three Concepts of Deity -- and the Political Consequences

[also posted on YouTube]

In my prior post, I looked at a one-sentence Hebrew answer to Muslim questions about the Trinity. This definition also leads to two other realities worth discussion. I will address the first one here.

Across human history, in reverse chronological order, there are three basic concepts of deity. In Islam, Allah is singular, and proclaimed to be the greatest. In Hinduism, beginning with Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, and in other polytheisms, there are many finite gods and goddesses. And in the Bible we have Trinitarian monotheism in Yahweh Elohim, and as fulfilled in Jesus and the gift of the Holy Spirit.

In essence, Allah equals unity without diversity, as he has "no companions," and is thus defined by the human number 1. In political terms, this understanding leads to imposed conformity.

In essence, polytheism equals diversity without unity, and is thus defined by multiples of the human number 1. In political terms, this understanding leads to competing local claims on power, and thus, social chaos.

In essence, in Yahweh Elohim, we have diversity in service to unity, defining the One who is greater than the concept of human number. In political terms, this reality serves checks and balances on power, and thus religious, political and economic liberty for all people equally.