About Jesus     Steve Sweetman

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My Journey Through The Ecclesiastical Maze

Part 3

We Move To The Free Methodist Church

 

I will carry on with my story, but I’d like to explain something first.  If you think that pointing out negatives in our churches isn’t constructive, I’d suggest you consider how negative God was when He spoke through the prophets in the Old Testament.  If you were an Israeli and took His words to heart, you‘d feel pretty bad, which was His intention.  In 2 Cor. 7:8-10 Paul said, “if I brought you sorrow …  I am glad … because your sorrow led you to repentance … as God intended.  Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation”.  It is clear to me that God does speak negatively at times, causing us sorrow that should lead us to repentance.  Jesus was negative at times too.  Just ask any Pharisee and he’ll tell you that. 

 

Peter said that “it is time for judgment to begin with the family of God. (1 Pet. 4:17)  Paul told the Corinthians to “examine themselves”. (2 Cor. 13:5)  If we can bring about change  because of self examination, God’s judgment towards us will be less severe.  Such examination forces us to deal with our negatives.

 

I don’t write these words out of bitterness.  I have many fond memories as I think of my journey through the ecclesiastical maze, yet the truths of Scripture often conflict with our traditions.  Many don’t feel this conflict because they don’t take Biblical truth seriously.

 

Now back to my story.  For some reason my mom left the Standard Church to be a part of the Free Methodist Church that actually met in the basement of a house at the time.  I know why the word “Free” precedes the word “Methodist”, and it’s not because members didn’t have to tithe.  It’s because you didn’t have to pay for your pew as was the practice with some other Methodist churches.  Paul could have been very rich if he had made pews instead of tents.        

 

Talking about pews, I found myself jumping over some pews along with scores of others at a Kathryn Kuhlman meeting in Pittsburg PA. back in 1972.  After standing in line for seven hours the doors finally opened at 10 AM for a 2 PM meeting.  Hundreds of us pushed our way into the church building, jumping over pews to get closer to Miss Kuhlman while others were stretched out on pews in hopes of saving a spot for a friend.  Now that’s laying down your life for your brother, especially when it was me jumping over pews.  I jumped over one very heavy-set woman.  If she had lifted her head while I was jumping over her I would have kicked it off her shoulders as if it was a football. She’d surely need healing then.  I suppose I could rationalize my behaviour by saying I was “jumping pews in the Spirit”, much like laughing or barking in the Spirit, but I can’t bring myself to do that.  I was only 21 years old and caught up in the mob mentality.     

 

In the basement of a house these Free Methodist people built a little platform about six inches off the floor  and covered it with a dark red carpet.  Along the edge of the platform was a railing that they used as an altar.  As a child I recall the word altar from Bible stories. It was a place where animals were set on fire, but I don’t recall any burning animals on this altar.  A pulpit was placed on the platform to preach from.  I soon learned that a platform, an altar, and a pulpit were a necessity to be a real church.  I’ll keep looking, but I’ve yet to find supporting Scripture for that one, but it must be there. 

 

Jesus Meets Us In The Basement     

        

My mother married my father who wasn’t a Christian at the time. I don’t know why a Christian would marry a non-Christian. Well, maybe I do know why.  Hormones or desperation might be two reasons. Paul told us not to be “unequally yoked with unbelievers” as the King James Bible puts it. (2 Cor. 6:14)  One Sunday school teacher told us that meant a white man couldn’t marry a black woman.  That never sounded  right to me.  I know now that Paul was speaking of  not being united with unbelievers, as he specifically stated in the text.  He said nothing about white men and black women. Examples of such a union would be a marriage relationship or possibly a business relationship.  This example from my Sunday school teacher illustrates why James says that there shouldn’t be many teachers among us. (James 3:1)     

 

Early in my life I ate lots of sweets, something I can’t seem to do now that I’m over 55 years old.  I used to take cookies to bed with me and drink lots of water, resulting in many visits to the bathroom, and many  knocks on the bathroom door asking if I was finished yet.  Doctors told my parents I had Juvenile Diabetes and I ended up in Sick Children’s Hospital in Toronto close to death.  That’s what pierced my parent’s hearts with fear and dread as I mentioned earlier. 

 

At the age of five I can recall staying at Sick Children’s Hospital.  I remember the sickening sweet taste of glucose they made me drink.  I recall them taking blood from my thumbs, the kids play-room, and looking out the window from many floors up at the street below.    

 

My life would have ended at the age of five if not for Jesus visiting us in the basement one Sunday morning.  I vividly recall that day.  My dad was told ahead of time to be there because I was going to be prayed for.  He saw me kneel at the altar where never a lamb was set on fire.  Our lady pastor laid her hand on my head and put this oily stuff on my forehead, something the Bible says to do when people get sick. (James 5:14)  I don’t recall feeling anything special except for the pastor’s hand and the oily stuff, but that’s beside the point.   

 

It became evident that I wasn’t eating as many cookies and drinking as much water, and subsequently there were fewer knocks on the bathroom door.  My dad got curious so he took me to our local doctor who suggested that we go back to Sick Children’s Hospital again.  The Toronto doctors checked me out and in their words couldn’t find “a trace of sugar in me”.  The head doctor at the hospital concluded that a miracle had taken place. He didn’t attribute the miracle to Jesus, but we all knew who made me better.  It was quite obvious.  My parent’s fear turned to joy, but best of all my dad gave his life to Jesus.  This miracle certainly had eternal implications.     

 

Now that’s what I call church – meeting Jesus in the basement of a house.  I really like that.  I met up with this precious pastor some 45 years later when she told me that those were the good old days of the Free Methodist Church in our town.  Her face lit up as she spoke of those days, but her joyous expression faded away as she told me that things were never the same after the church building was built.  They got distracted with fund raising and the building process.  These words spoken from the lips of a very down to earth, sincere, and loving hearted traditionalist spoke volumes to me.  This lady had a real pastor’s heart.  She wasn’t a professional which may well be one reason why Jesus met with us in a special way that day.  

 

So we left the sand-box in the Standard Church for an altar of healing in the Free Methodist Church .  A sand-box for an altar of  healing – not a bad exchange.  

 

Why did Jesus visit us that morning?  Besides the fact that He obviously wanted to visit us and what I’ve already said about our pastor, I think our hearts were set on Jesus without any distractions.  But as it’s been since the Tower of Babel, we tend to like our building projects.  Remember what Peter said after he saw Jesus talking with Elijah and Moses at the transfiguration.  In typical human fashion he said, “let’s build three monuments to remember the occasion”. (my paraphrase of  Matt. 17:4)            

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