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The Radical Pilgrim

~ Pro Bible ~ Pro Apologetics ~ Pro Kingdom ~

All scripture quotations from the Authorized Bible, without apologies.  Placed accents mine.
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A Pilgrim's Story

Dedicated to spiritual mavericks, misunderstood misfits, and lovers of the truth

Is. 42:16.  "And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them."

A brief background

I was brought up in a dysfunctional family from Scottish parents who had immigrated to New Zealand ("the Land of Plenty") during the early 50's due to 'British post-war disillusionment'.  Our existence at the time was unusual, as family environments were usually stable and secure during that era.  Alcohol and gambling fuelled the volatile 'pressure cooker' atmosphere of our home as well as keeping us pretty broke.  Apart from this, my parents brought us up in the best way they could, for the situation they were in, and the past they had come from (my father - a disturbed alcoholic - had been sexually and violently abused by his superiors at the age of 15 after joining the Royal Navy at an illegal 4' 11" in height).  Looking back (though we children were generally left to our own devices) I am grateful I was never physically abused, nor were we ever deprived of any of the basic necessities of life.

A major blow came to my life when I had just turned 14, when my mother suddenly died at the age of 44.  I was not prepared, and the biggest tragedy of all was the fact that I had lost my chance to say sorry for the disrespectful way I had treated her.  This was our first night back in New Zealand.  In addition, to top it all off, I had been sea sick for virtually the whole six weeks at sea (can you imagine it?), looking like a survivor out of a POW camp at the end of the voyage.   This had been the lowest part of my whole life.

Going back to when I was aged six, my best friend, my Brother aged fifteen, left home for Australia.  He'd never hit it off with his Dad, and because he was the oldest, he got the full brunt of our fathers drinking and disturbed, abusive, even violent behaviour.  The bottom of my world fell out; things would never be the same again, even to the day of his death.  Now my Mother had departed, forever.  I was devastated.

I also left home at the age of 15 (what was left of it), and dropped outta school one year later.  My teenager years were generally a real struggle, until I helped form a three piece heavy rock band at the age of nineteen, where for the first time in my life I experienced some partial success.  (Sorry to disappoint some, as this will not be a "sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll" testimony!)

However, my life was quite a mess inwardly speaking.  I had been carrying bottled-up bitterness, disappointment and dissolution, and anger all my life.  On top of all this, I was extremely insecure and confused, with little communicating skills to fall back on, which compounded my social problems even further (updating this - I have only come to terms with a major problem in my life being diagnosed in my later life with an unusual form of dyslexic coupled with narcolepsy (a sleeping disorder).

Seek and ye shall find

For some reason, despite myself being an ardent evolutionist, I kept in my possession a Gideons Bible (wonder where that came from?).  On more than a couple of occasions I had tried to read it, hoping it would add some clue to my life.   I could not understand how such a book could have so much prominence in the world, yet to me personally be the driest book I had ever laid my hands on, even though I usually had very little concentration power to read, no doubt due to the two disorders just mentioned.

A "backslidden" friend of mine (whose parents were Bible believing Pentecostal Christians) came around one day and shared with me how he had been at a seance the night before, and how the initials of a girl he was predicted to take out, were spelt out.  Even though he was sceptical at what had taken place, he did end up taking a girl out who matched those three initials.  Moreover, this is where events started to take shape:  For it was only a few nights later when once again I found myself at home scanning this "cryptic/esoteric" book, called the Bible, looking for some sort of reference point to my life.  Then, popping out before my eyes, came a  portion of scripture I could finally relate to in a practical way, having partially dabbled into the occult myself (Deu. 18: 10-11):

"There shall not be found among you anyone that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire (fire walking), or that useth divination (fortune telling), or an observer of times (astrology), or an enchanter (spell casting), or a witch (using psyche power to control/influence circumstances or people), or a charmer (wearing good luck charms, pendulum swinging, water divining etc.), or a consulter with familiar spirits (medium to contact spirits at a seance), or a wizard (man of magic), or a necromancer (someone speaking to the dead).  For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord."

This was the first time anything in this Book had made some sort of sense to me.  I couldn't wait until I saw my mate so that I could genuinely warn him about seances, and also get it right for once about the Book his family seemed to know so much about.  However, to my disappointment, my friend would not have a bar of it.  Yet later, the Lord would still use his parents to pray and help win me to the cross.

Number two (and I think revelation would be the right word to use here) came nearly two years later when I lent our guitarist and friend the fourth album which included "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin.  He took it home and discussed the words and theme with his sister and father who were 'born again' ( Baptist) Christians.  I was hooked on this band I had seen live in Auckland.  However, my friend conveyed back to me from his family how the lyrics were wrong, as they were trying (like many other bands) to cash in on there being many paths in life to choose, as long as they were convenient, and got you there in the end.  My friend (even though he wasn't walking with the Lord) spoke with affirmation about there only being ONE true way in life.

I believe a seed was sown in my life at this point in time. This simple one-liner "only ONE way" registered somewhere down in my gut as rock-solid-truth ("if there was such a thing as right - there would be no other alternatives", were my thoughts), even though it took a few months for it all to tie together as Jesus being the only true path to God.

The bubble bursts

Some weeks later, as our band was breaking up, my friend called around one Sunday afternoon in the manner he usually did.  However, this particular afternoon, instead of being armed with a whole lot of LPs to listen to, he brought a whole bundle of these little Jack Chick comics I had never set eyes on before, and threw them on the carpet in front of me.  As I picked them up to squizz over, he gave me a quick summary of what they were about:  The coming world dictator, the mark of the Beast, the counterfeit Super Church, the flood of homosexuality coming upon the earth, etc.

I was blown away!  I'd never heard any of these things before, even though I had some exposure to Sunday School and Gospel Hour when I was a toddler.  Was it really true?  Was it really going to happen?

Then there were the little comics about evolution.  I could see that the author was intelligent and up with the play, so logic told me he was going to confirm and reinforce my evolution theories. However, it was not to be!  Quite the opposite in fact ...  for as I read these hard-and-fast facts for the first time in my life, my whole theorized life began to crumble.  It was like someone had taken a wet rolled up towel and gone whoosh in my face.  I was stunned and utterly mortified, as well as totally astonished to why I was not told these things before.

My friend let me hang onto the tracks for a few days before he returned them to his Christian sister.  There was always good news at the end of each one of these scary little tracts, like Jesus coming back and purging the earth of evil ... The Rapture ...  The marriage supper ...  The thousand years of peace and prosperity ...  The eternal new heaven and earth ...  and so forth.  However, the hard part for me was going to be coming to terms with all this stuff, humbling myself, admitting I was wrong and forsaking my opinion, for proceeding on this new journey.

Born again

It was now 1974.  A new year and a new band to play in.  This time I found myself resident in a tavern with experienced fellow musicians who were nearly a decade older than me, all married and stable at the time.  One was a Roman Catholic.  The second one, I guess you would call him a New Ager today.  Then thirdly, a devout highly respected religious person, who was genuinely seeking God (a year later he would be saved).  Lastly, at the age of 20; long haired, rebellious, withdrawn, introverted ... Me.

During our refreshment breaks, sipping on free lemon squash provided (as a band we never really drank alcohol beverages) we usually found ourselves in great discussion about religion and the answers to life.  Nothing else seemed to satisfy my inner thirst.  So a few weeks later when I was sick, living alone, and still depressed after a failed relationship, I called out to the Lord from my bed one night .  Not much seemed to happen.  Nothing dramatic anyway.  However, from now on I was pliable before God, and became more committed in trying to follow the teachings of Jesus.  Even witnessing from hereon.  Then, under the company of my ex-guitarist and his girlfriend, I started to check out some of the churches around town, hungering to know more.

One little Pentecostal fellowship (about twenty five members) impressed me the most because of their open friendliness and less 'stiff and starchy' approach, compared to the other 'straight laced' mainline churches I had visited.  This is why I decided to go back the following week, under my own steam this time, and found myself going up the front at the end of the message to make an all out public stand for Jesus.

Doors begin to open

It was May 1974 and winter came early that year.  Less than a week after my public confession, and just completing my four and a half years apprenticeship, I headed for Christchurch with no job or accommodation to go to (at this stage I had not read 1 Cor. 7:20), except a qualified letter of recommendation for band work from my friend the late, geriatric, well known, "Bang on Harry" Tootle, known in band circles as the "oldest" teenager in Australasia.

I arrived late in the chilly afternoon, and sat in an upstairs cafe overlooking Cathedral Square, while it turned dark and cold outside.  For the first time in my life I observed and studied all the various people outside meddling down in the Square, and was happy (not bitter for once) about seeing other people enjoying themselves.  At the time, I now believe, I was actually looking for the community of God's people, to relate to, share with, and enjoy and be encouraged by their fellowship ...  untwined from organization.

Having had a lot of time to fill in before I was to deliver my letter to a night club after midnight, and after countless cups of tea, I made it back to my panel-van where I sat trying to figure out what else I could do to fill in the evening.  Suddenly there was a tap on the window.  To my surprise, while I was winding the window down I heard ...  "Gidday!!  Are you a Christian?"

John Stickings was his name.  He had taken a downsyndrome teenager out for a birthday treat in the city centre and for some reason decided to go for a wander down to the square.  On the way down he saw me sitting in the van and as he passed he looked back and saw my "Try Jesus" bumper sticker which I only had displayed for a few days.

"Lord," he prayed, "If this man is still there when I return I'll speak to him!"

As a result of our conversation I found myself a short time later in the warmth of a Christian cafe, and I would have to admit that up to this point in my life I had never experienced such a genuine love and acceptance from people.  No one was jumping on me anxious to compel me to join their "cult", but were only taking a genuine interest in me.  Before the evening was out I had a bed and place to go to.  The next morning I would be gathering with hundreds more, in a large hired out hall.  The following day I would be attending a successful job interview.   Thanks to John and one or two others at this stage.

Dual allegiance

It would never have been my choice to have ended up committed to their programmes the way I did, but I was talked into attending their weekly 'first principles' Bible foundation class ...

"I would never stand strong and be less vulnerable to drift, or even backslide, unless I came under strong qualified teaching," it was assumed by others.

As well as meeting and making friends with some good people, I became persuaded by their reasoning that I needed exposure and input to their first principle class they run for new converts.

While all this was taking place, my existence consisted of living in a budget motor camp surrounded by drop-outs and make-do people in transit, well over half an hours drive from Christchurch in the countryside.  The winter was bleak (it rained nearly all the time I was there), my hut was cold, and I had to skip through the puddles night after night to get to the loo or shower.  Even though the camp was owned by Christians, most of my time I still had to myself, among the transits and derelicts.  There was nothing to do but read my Bible and a heap of Christian books I had just purchased, as I hungered after the words of my new found Saviour.

This is where I began to hear from Him, His way, to learn how to give thanks in all situations, and to worship the Lord where I was at.  Nothing really mattered any more, as long as I would keep my eyes on Him; and through my weaknesses I found His strength could become a reality in my life.  Without Him I was nothing and could do nothing.  I actually became excited about these prospects, realizing they were the key to releasing myself to His grace and experiencing His power.

During these times of what they referred to as Charismatic Renewal (whatever that was?) much was said in regards to the baptism of the Holy Spirit.  However, looking back I realize now, the Lord was always trying to show me ...  it was only when I was empty I could really be filled with Him.  This I found to be a real struggle.  The condition:  Matt. 5:6 ...  "which do hunger and thirst after righteousness."  How could weak and frail me measure up or accomplish this?  Especially when the emphasis from these churches was on "being filled with power" and orientated on "finding your ministry"!

However, these were the real 'first principles' I was learning, which were essential, and were to become a spring-board for any successes in my future pilgrimage.  Problems would arise later when I would allow myself to be diverted from them, by not being strong in the scriptures but compliant to man.  It's true ...  "The fear of man bringeth a snare"!

Spirit led

My heart was back in my town Blenheim.  I thought about how much freer and effective I could be at the tiny casual fellowship I had come from, where I could come and go, be with my friends, and not be obligated to so many meetings and seminars.  To get the pastor's "permission" to go home and spend a little time with my unsaved folks on the very odd weekend, seemed a little on the nose.  However, I had to be very careful I was not "straying" outside God's "protective covering."  I was continually reminded of (meaning the Church/the Ministry I was apparently obligated to), as well as the notion I was to guard myself from a "rebellious spirit"!  Whatever that meant?

The day finally came, when feeling like a salesman, I was able to approach and convince the pastor (with all good sound reasoning) why I should be back in Blenheim.

"No one in the Ministry has a witness about this!"  I had been told by my Outreach Leader.  They did not want to let me go:  "I was vital!  Irreplaceable!"  Was I ...  really?

They needed a drummer in the outreach band, possessing youthful enthusiasm and zeal, and owning a reliable van to run the gear around the South Island.  But a "suppose so" reply from the pastor was all I needed to disarm my opposition and plan my move back home.  Of course, I also had the pastor on my side back in my town.  He was looking for all the the youthful injection of life he could muster.  This was quite strange, I thought.  We were told to obey our pastors and here were two pastors with conflicting thoughts on the direction I should take.  One of them, no doubt, was in line to the will of God.  Therefore, God had to be behind at least one of them, I assumed.  By making a decision based on what suited me best for the time, I made the transition from one 'head' to another, and from one denomination to another, not realizing or questioning at the time to the fact that  God's church was every single born again person in town functioning as His people, irrespective of the slot they have been gently manipulated or pressganged into.

Things were changing fast when I arrived back in my town.  The past wee fellowship I left nearly one year previously, was now growing numerically (mostly from poached mainstream church goers) and becoming very "official" and "structured".  Pastor had now a title and was going away to conferences and learning much from the city church settings and international visiting speakers I had unintentionally just escaped from.

I became very busy again, doing things more from obligation than conviction.  I was part of a youth leadership team trying to drum-up the 'latest and the greatest' fun activities so that our pampered teenagers wouldn't fly apart and leave "church life".  These were days of slogging and striving.  The verse that kept coming to mind while we were trying to nut things out was:  "Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord."

In the way

The Lord had spoken again, so I had to act:

During our weekly youth leadership meetings we all had to share, one at a time, our latest brain wave, with answers to solve some of the difficulties we always seemed to come back to, and work our way through them again.  When it came to my turn this particular evening, I felt totally empty and inadequate as usual, apart from one line I could not hold back on ... "we need the Holy Spirit!!"

"What do you mean by that?"  I was asked by some inquiring minds.

"I don't really know!  Maybe we have to shut-up camp for awhile and go home and ask the Lord!" was my reply.

Of course, that was far too radical ...  we had deadlines to meet and a programme to run.

I never turned up again for any of those meetings.  That was back in 1977 ...  my first "courageous" step-out in denying religious "responsibility".  The following year I was to marry, and a short time later walk away from conventional church.  Many events were going to turn for the better.

Is. 43:19. "Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it?  I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert."

Whatta wonderful promise!

Leaving the boat (or our story - aftermath of denominational marriage)

They say it took guts, but here I was in fear and trepidation, with a letter of resignation to the pastor of our denomination.  To make things worse ...  near bumping into a fellow member in front of the main Post Office just before I was about to post the letter, and having to explain the whole thing to him after he asked what I was up to.  Then straight after posting the letter finding myself walking into another person whom I knew, belonging to an "off-beat" sect this time.

She heard my story and saw me as a potential candidate for her deceased Prophet.  I had other ideas and told her so ... !!  No longer was it going to be JESUS plus New Life Centre, or Elim, or Derek Prince, or Bob Mumford, or Jack Hayford.  Nor was it going to be JESUS plus Witness Lee, or Moses David, or Ellen White, or Willie Branham, for that matter.  It was going to be JESUS, and just JESUS plus nothing this time.

Were these two casual meetings just a coincidence?  Or were they a test, an allegory even, of my new position/stand ...  caught between the mainstream and the off-limits fringe, as echoes of indoctrination I had been bombarded with over the last few years kept haunting my mind:

"There'll be no guarantee if you come out from God's covering!"  "There's no protection outside the church!"  "You must be under authority!"  "Rebellion is the sin of witchcraft!"  "A tiny ember will burn out unless it's kept where the fire is!"  "You'll go into deception!! ...  DECEPTION!! ...  DECEPTION!! ... !!

"No one I know has successfully done this before,"  I kept reminding myself.  "The only ones that have left have been backsliders, weirdoes, and spoilt brats; who haven't got their way, and looked elsewhere for spiritual platform and recognition."

However, it was time for denominational witchcraft to be broken in all forms of false devotion and misguided obligation;  "If God be for me, who can be against me,"  I thought to myself."  God or nothing!!"

The question some would ask;  "What would make a married bloke, with pastoral potential, go-for-broke like this?  No one had done this before!  Against all sound teaching too!  They just need time-out to revaluate and see how much they need and will miss church!  They'll be back!!"

Come out from among them

It was 1977 when my "hallelujahs" had long gone dry, and "lifting my hands" had become a wearisome "just going through the motions" scenario.  Questioning anything was put down to "bringing a false report!"   Where out of the blue one day, through the mail, came this little crude, uncouth, gutsy magazine called "Small Cords".  It was written by some folk who had gone through the whole religious scene; from childhood to adulthood; from manse to "charismania", and had found God was still alive and well after being left out in the cold after a church split.  The magazine was blunt and honest, and was written out of a mixture of concern and excitement, of telling others trapped by 'the system' the good news ...

Message:  "Don't try and change or reform 'the system', it wont work, it never has ...  just walk away from it!!"

Although not entirely convinced at first (or too bloom'n scared to be convinced ...  you should have seen the reaction, particularly from the hierarchy), at least it had shaken me out of my religious trance and got me thinking for myself.  And think I did ... !

About a year had gone and I was now married to Yvonne.  Tithing was the biggest issue.  Like all religious issues, based around fear.  You see, after budgeting for our two mortgages each pay day, plus an HP and our general expenses (without any spare pocket money to even buy the odd ice cream), we could only pay our obliged 10% to 'the system', from our net income only.  Not gross.  Problem!! ...  the teaching was 10% of your gross income or you faced the curse of Malachi 3:9.

It was time to act on my gut feeling (the still quiet voice within) ...

Conclusion:  "Tithing was Old Covenant, and absolutely nothing to do with the lively oracles of Acts 7:38."

So we chucked out tithing and wow ...  the release!!   Also, things fell into place rather promptly:  I started a new job with a larger pay, plus overtime.  Yvonne went back onto a 'five working days' week, and in no time we had our second mortgage paid off much sooner than anticipated, freeing up our finances.  A few months later the value of our house doubled by the biggest real estate hike any one can remember.

"The blessing of the LORD, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it," must be appropriate here!!

Of course all this was just preparation for the biggie ...  the question of "going to church", supporting a denomination, and all that mumbo jumbo.

You see I'd been around long enough, and read heaps, to see things in 'churchie circles' were amiss.  Like tithing f'instance was preached as a New Covenant requirement over the pulpit, but in the privacy of the pastor's office was admitted to be Old Covenant.  Being unequally yoked for Bloke and Blokesses made a great sermon on Sunday, whereas the pastors were (unofficially) unequally yoked with unregenerated modernist and liberal ministers at Ministers Fraternal.  The odd 'once in a blue moon' preacher would come into town ruffling a few feathers and (sort of) preach against ecumenicalism ("but what the heck, as long as people were being saved!"  ...  was the hierarchies notion).  However, Dear Pastor would be aiding ecumenicalism by fraternizing with ministers who taught universal salvation, corrected or explained away large portions of the Bible, gave the Roman Catholics the greenlight to be embraced as fellow brethren, and were opposed to water immersion etc.  The list could go on!

This, my friend is called spiritual harlotry (I can understand now why these men have since been handed over to carnal immorality).  It is called being a Daughter of the Whore mentioned in Revelation;  part and parcel with Babylon the Great.  The so-called Church Fathers and Non-conformists of old, who were elevated from the pulpits as our past heroes, ironically taught against and exposed this sort of thing.  I could see why pastors weren't preaching against it anymore, because they were getting sucked in by it.  Unity at any cost (if it meant they could maintain their comfortable lifestyles); and unity at the price of truth (even if it meant selling their congregation down the gurgler).

Their flocks were being fed in the dark like mushrooms.  The preservation of the church's name was somehow more important than the preservation of the Lord's name.  Was I to remain passive when the word of God was so clear?:

Very clear and precise I say:

"Wherefore come out from among them , and be ye separate, saith the Lord!"

It was time to split and leave Camp!

Called out

How could I do it ...  leave the church that is?  I was too weak and frail character wise (easy to admit now)!  Additionally, how could I be right and everyone wrong?  Then there was another major hurdle ...  telling Yvonne.

The doubts were tormenting, and hassled me all day at work.  But then again, I would be the biggest phoney around if I went along listening to man instead of God.  Pastor had just had a vision ...  to build an expensive, elaborate, exuberant, building complex ...  the pride of town at the time!  He called it "The Ship", would you believe?  This was his vision, a vision of his ship the Lord had provided.  He stated you were either for him or against him.  Either "go with the flow, or go!"  There was no alternative ...  it was time to abandon ship and say goodbye to its captain and crew:

First, I laid all my cards on the table before Yvonne.  "I'm quitting church," I said. "There's too much rubbish there and I don't' believe the Lord wants us mixed up in it ."

"That's fine by me," she said.  "If you really believe it to be the Lord," was her reply.

I could not believe it.  She had been "going to church" all her life ...  Brethren, Baptist, then Pentecostal.  It was all she knew.  What about her family, our friends, the tidal wave of reaction?

But the Lord had been preparing her heart.

Next, that most dreaded letter to the pastor.  I mustered up enough strength, then penned the letter and sealed it in the envelope.  We drove off in our car with the letter to post.  On the way Yvonne called into her friends place to drop something off.  There was just me left in the car with this letter and my Bible:

"Lord I can't do this without your strength?!" I cried under my breath.  " I need a word from you for confirmation.  And if it is your will ... !?"

I opened my Bible and started reading the first portion that meet my eye.  Being disappointed at first, for it just happened to be the same dry portion of scripture (book marked) I had been reading that morning without one drop of inspiration.  The portion of scripture was Matthew 14: 24- 31:

"But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary.  And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea.  And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear.  But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.  And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.  And he said, Come.  And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.  But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.  And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"

This time was different however, because as I read, each word was being firmly and warmly reinforced within, especially when I came to verse 27:

Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.

Providentially set-up, this verse brought the inward strength and encouragement needed as I was granted the enablement to post the letter.  The Lord had spoken direct.  The rest of these scriptures just naturally fell into place, amazing me at the way they fitted my position at the time:

The ship represented the man-made structure I was leaving (yes, looked like the pastor's vision was manmade).  I was going to Jesus without the camp, found in the wilderness.  If I kept my eyes on Him I would be safe, even though others thought it was another spirit.  This was why I was to ignore the storm and the waves, the many voices (both the doctrines of men, and accusations, fears and doubts from the devil).  It was completely by faith not sight (circumstances), nor looking to the right hand or to the left, but looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.

Confirmation and encouragement

It must have been a few weeks later when I was recovering in hospital after an operation that a brother (whom I didn't have much to do with) came to visit and cautioned why I quit "going to church".  When I shared the above word I received from the Lord with him, he shared how interesting it was as he had received a vision at our wedding service at the beginning of the year, and had been sitting on it until now.  In the vision he had seen both Yvonne and I leaving the boat together, going out to meet Jesus in the storm.

Another blessing came not long after, when another brother came around to our house with an old Brethren book he lent us called "The Pilgrim Church".  The book was a history of various non-conformist individuals and groups, from their early beginnings in Acts, down through the Dark ages, then the Reformation, right up into the 20th Century.  Although many of these groups weren't perfect, and some had downright heretical leanings, generally these were fellow saints who choose to follow the Lord and Him only, without the assistance (only opposition) of human institutions.

We spent our first holiday away camping (about the anniversary time of our wedding) as I read it from cover to cover, confirming we were not the first or the last brethren to be 'without the camp'.

Now that we were on our own ...  what next?

Making disciples (more confirmation)

Isaiah 51:2.  "Look unto Abraham your father, and unto Sarah that bare you: for I called him alone, and blessed him, and increased him."

We were challenged by many ... "now that you have left, what now??"

We had no answers.  You cannot explain the call of God.  It is a very lonely place.  Hid with Christ until His appearing.  But it is a very rewarding and rich place (the Lord had promised to make a way through the wilderness), which can't be taught only experienced.

I questioned myself, but I knew the answer.  It was a matter of putting it to the test ...  God had not called us to eternal isolation but to be His family on earth, reaching out to the stranger.  But who was the stranger?  It became obvious it was anyone who was outside His family and was willing to come.

The initial crunch was the feeling of being cut off from all contacts, except one other family who had been hurt by 'the system' (my wife's cousin & co in fact).  Even though we had not much to do with them, apart from the odd meal around home, they still responded to our company, so we kept contact on a purely non spiritual friendship basis ...  until the evening around at their place when 'the Mis'izz' opened up.  We left with one parting suggestion:

"Why not after we leave, in the privacy of your bedroom, call out to God and tell Him how you feel, and ask Him to fill you with Himself."

Nearly three weeks had passed and we had not heard from them.  They lived and worked out in the country and had no phone, nor did we know their car had broken down.  So we thought we would pay them a visit.  We had only just arrived when they cheerfully came out to greet us saying, "Haven't you heard the good news, we've called out to the Lord and much has happened since we last saw you!"

'The Mis'izz' had followed up on what we encouraged her to do, and had meet God.  That was okay with Hubby, but there was still no change in him.  For the first few days anyway, until 'the Mis'izz' prayed for his back one evening before going to bed.  'Hubby' thought something had happened, so he leapt out of bed and tried every exercise that use to cause him pain and hindrance.  No longer was spinal surgery necessary, plus a long spell in traction, as apart from being healed that night, Christ had come into his life and filled him with His Spirit.  Bed was put on-hold for a few hours, as he danced around the house with excitement and jubilation, pain free with no discomfort, sharing together with his wife their new found faith in Christ.

By the time we arrived over a week later, they were already into the scriptures and hungering after the Lord.

Next, within days, due to a shaky engagement, another couple were introduced to the Lord through our two friends.   About the same time, another couple we knew, crossed our path and befriended us on a more personal level, as they too wanted to find God in a more intimate way, without the hassle of religious red-tape.

Soon we were dropping in on one another, and having regular Bible studies, as each couple in turn were introducing people to Christ, without the camp.  Potluck teas, midnight dunkings in the river (usually when there was snow on the mountains), and weekend family outings, became ongoing events.  And did you know, looking back over those two or three decades, I can only remember three people (who knows, we've lost contact with them) backsliding.  The rest of us, by the grace of God, are bringing another generation of young people into a saving knowledge of Christ, with the odd dunking occurring from time to time, down at the river, or in someone's pool.  This can happen where we or others don't have any knowledge of the event till after the word gets out.  Proves the Holy Ghost is in control and not a "head serang".

It's true!!  God can use unpolished, unsophisticated, amateurs like ourselves.

Casting out the Bondwoman
(or ...  dealing with the enemy within)

However, it was not enough leaving Babylon behind.  The city along with its effects had been engrafted into us, especially me.  So it had to be literally driven out of our lives and marriage.  Gal. 4: 22,31:

"For it is written, that Abraham had two sons, the one by a bondmaid (religious works), the other by a freewoman (the promise) ... we are not children of the bondwoman, but of the free."

So leaving 'the system' behind can be very difficult.  It is not just enough to leave 'the system', but to get 'the system' out of "US".  It is not just enough to walk away from religion, but to kick the habit within your own life.  There will be withdrawal symptoms.  Old habits die hard.  Old wine after all is easier to go back to.  As a sedative it is intoxicating and addictive, and inoculates one against reality.  Also, walking away makes one more vulnerable and prone to attacks.

After three years of being in the wilderness, and knowing God was still with us, I fell into a trap (or had I ever really left it?).  It was a great relief being free from the structure, and thrilling seeing others making-it-with-God.  However, I was still carrying a bit of baggage from the old city.   Meaning, I was still looking for results and ignorantly trying to re-make-it-happen myself.  Like charismatically duplicating Sunday all over again within our meetings, but on a smaller scale, in the confinements of our lounge at home, subconsciously playing "pastor" at the same time.  Quite a task when you are trying to disciple a group of hurting drop-outs ...  until the day the Lord said they were His disciples and it was time to back off.

How was I going to tell them?  However, once again in the hour of need the Lord proved to be gracious, and gave me a whole chapter this time, verse for verse.  Along with the grace to deliver it to the house group:

The Rechabites
(Jeremiah chapter thirty five)

As someone reminded me from Matthew 14:32 that Peter went back into the boat with Jesus, I was challenged to go back to the boat I had left, without compromising (this would prove I was free), knowing Jesus was with me.  I dropped this on the house group after expounding on the whole chapter, and told them they were spiritually on their own from now on, with the promise the Lord was making provision for us all (v. 18-19).

The prophetic word the Lord had brought forth started to unfold as it fitted the scenario:

The structured fellowship my wife and I had left had increased (the boat had now become a ship, conventionally speaking).  The new super building complex (despite the overwhelming debt and overdraft it had incurred) was attracting many, especially with its spiced-up orchestra and boisterous singing.  However, the attraction to us at the time was the strong mature eldership that had taken shape, especially with the two (word based) internationally renown evangelists (Barry Smith and Jack Lloyd), who had moved in with their families, whom I respected.

We were to enter Jerusalem again (metaphorically speaking v.11) this time not as clones but as spiritual Rechabites.  Meaning, we were not allowed to drink their wine (swallow their religious doctrine), neither build anything ourselves (v.7,8).  We were still wilderness people, pilgrims passing through (v.10).  And the Lord had a message from the 'rough around the edge' outcasts, to the polished religionists, backing up some straight previous prophetic messages that had been spoken (v.12-17) in their midst.  Unfortunately for them, the message was contrary to the City where they had made their inhabitant, along with serious consequences if God's word was not heeded.

So here was this slick trendy edifice, a show piece of affluence, an adornment for the town, made up largely of two groups with opposing nick names given from both sides ...   "clones" (the ones that followed Senior Pastor) and "dissidents" (the Rechabites standing with their friends; some even part of the eldership).

It wasn't long before new housegroup meetings were flourishing in the dissidents' homes.  Our home group had to split twice in a short time because of numbers.  Moreover, as the gap between the clones and the dissidents widened (due to popularity being placed above scripture), the more the hidden pyramid system became evident (with Senior and Assistant Pastor at the top - who are now both out of the ministry due to immorality and re marriage by the way - with eldership at another level, and so on).

They had a vision (the pastors and their pedigrees that is).  The vision was a ship representing their church.  Anyone not manning the ship the way they expected you to, like maintaining its mechanisms (supporting its cultivated para organizations), getting involved with its bureaucracy (supporting its politics and gamesmanship), and not questioning the Captain (the Senior Pastor), were "going against the will of God".

While all this was taking place, the ship was gently sailing into the waters of New Age fables and ecumenical compromise.  Some folk had had enough, with some abandoning ship already.  Little did we know during this period (the mid eighties), this phenomenon was actually occurring all over New Zealand, as well as around the world.  People were jumping ship in droves!

With our friends, we had taken refuge in this City under a strong, word based (but short lived) eldership, from the onslaught of spiritual opposition (the Babylonians v.11) we had encountered. We had made a stand without bringing disruption.  Now it was time to move on again.  Virtually all the dissidents' had left by now, but as a family, we were still there.  Good in some ways, because then we couldn't be accused of leading any one out.  Nor could we be accused of poaching or 'sheep stealing'.

Incidentally, undertaking all this, there was still a spiritual tie in my life that had not been dealt with.  A spiritual web that had been knitted over my life, brought about over the years since my conversion, by haphazardly giving myself over to the 'laying on of hands', off- key prophecies, and allowing myself to be indoctrinated and manipulated by man, which I had to take full responsibility for.  It had never been broken.  Reiterating ...  "it is the fear of man that bringeth a snare."  Moreover, I am convinced now (with the backing of scripture) that this is the main reason I went back to 'the system' ...  the tie had not been severed completely inwardly, yet God in His grace still made provision and accommodated my decisions through the word.

Following one Sunday morning service (the odd one we still went to), after routinely sitting under much more unscriptural rigmarole (a Mothers Day service in this case), observing the majority who where soaking it up, and questioning myself ("what am I doing here?") ...  I made a complete heart stand:  I shook off  the bondwoman with all connections to her, and walked out never to return again.  The spell of charismatic witchcraft had been broken over my life.  I felt and was a free man!

Counterfeit Cell Groups

It was now a matter of meeting with like-minded believers, and getting on with the Lord's business.  So we had profitable times and unprofitable times, eventful times and uneventful times.  Part of the growing curb.

One evening we were invited to a house meeting on a grand scale, where an overseas renown 'cell group' promoter came into town to encourage the homechurch scene.  Now was everyone's big chance to prove we could get-it-together without structure!  We'd all just left 'the system' in mass, and now was "justification" time.

The large lounge was bursting at the seams and spilling into the adjacent room, with everybody arriving with anticipation.  However, to our disappointment, it turned out to be just another "church" presentation, without any inter-exchanging, or room for questioning.  The speaker held the platform and emphasized life above the scripture, along with promoting the Spirit more than Jesus.  In fact, the scriptures were played down, the Authorized Bible rubbished, and the modern versions pushed, along with his books he was selling at the meeting.  Ring-a-bell!?

I went away putting a question to others I came across who were at the meeting:

"What was the whole point of leaving the church if we were just taking the church with us, to repeat its liturgy all over again in our homes, tailor-made just to suit our own environment we had created for ourselves?"

It was a matter of getting the church out of us!  The Charismatic Movement was alive and well 'without the camp', and even in some circles encouraged.  Satan was always ready to place a counterfeit wherever the truth was found.  As we discovered later, even the best of house groups could be hi-jacked by a dominant personality or a "spiritual" charmer.  If there was no discernment through the word, then a simple home-meeting could be a walkover, even by a visiting novice who was doing things out of ignorance and religious habit.  It was our responsibility to be on guard constantly, weighing up everything with the word and not wasting time with "spiritual" tyrekickers or unteachable dogmatists.

That was 1984 to 1985.  Since then much water has passed under the bridge.  A whole new generation of believers world-wide are meeting the Lord, direct, without mumbo jumbo or fuss.

What's happening at present in our town?  Some folk are making their families first priority, and working things out from 'there' as they 'take up, where they last left of', whether it was days, weeks, or months ago they last rubbed shoulders with others.  Other folk are sporadically gathering each week with groups of believers who don't belong to, or support any name other than His name.  It is usually not in the same persons home for more than two weeks in a row, allowing wives and others fellowship they might usually miss out on.  This way, it isn't  run by anyone.  They only gather around the word.   Whether a crowd, or two or three turn up, it doesn't really matter.  Some (not most) even read from modern translations (tut tut!! - I'll give them space - for awhile that is), because there is no pressure to conform.  Others even gather with other churches on a Sunday (grrrr!!).  They say for fellowship, but we know religion is a lie and they go because tradition being so ingrained, dictates for them.

Yes, if there is a travelling ministry in town, a well known personality, they are also free to come along, but they will only be treated as an equal (revelation wise that is - if they want the floor, it can be jacked up for them for another occasion).  After all ...  we're all brethren, where people are free to disagree and slog things out, and stirrers are not welcome.  The brethren can handle it.  There's maturity without the camp (from ex pastors to experienced elders).  Makes it interesting, as discussions can end up going anywhere, from the meaty to whatever is of relevance to peoples lives.  Where we should always come back to Jesus in the end.  After all ...  He should always be the One with whom we have to do.

  May '98.  Updated last 14/2/07 NZ. 

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