Why You Must Leave the Church: Reason 2: The Plagues
An Excerpt from “Come Out of Her, God’s People.”
My own case is a glaring illustration of a plague in operation.
A babe in Christ in 1979 with a serious background in new age occultism, what do I find operative in my first church with my first pastor? Charismatic witchcraft. Quite the opposite, church should be a place where a babe in Christ can learn to walk in the spirit so as not to fulfill the lust of his or her flesh.
Yet, what did I find?
Preachers operating as sexual predators. One non-denominational preacher opened my eyes to the fact that my occult practices of necromancy, channeling, astrology and reincarnation were of the devil, yet that same man introduced me to the charismatic teachings of the non-denominational churches, which are also just another form of witchcraft. A root in dry ground, I thank God that when I walked into church doors for the first time, I had already been saved at home two years before.
My case aside, As a pastor for 25 years, I observed the plagues operate within the Denomination from the very beginning. In fact, I have forgotten more instances of tragedy that befell Harriet Tubman members and even pastors than I can remember today. In most cases, the suffering seemed almost an embarrassment for people who are supposed to have a covenant with God.
I couldn’t understand it.
Most of the people simply repeated the same ole platitudes of “who can know God? We’ll all understand bye and bye.”
The first one who stood out for me was Brother Tommy.
Tommy belonged to the most prominent church family. The Thompsons were among the founding members of Harriet Tubman. A married man, Tommy tried to be discrete but it was well-known in the church that he constantly “played around.” However, his sins didn’t keep him out of the pulpit for his ability in congregate prayer made room for him not only in the Denomination but in several churches in the region.
Even the ministers could not compete with Tommy. The man fervently worked himself up— supposedly “in the Holy Ghost,” to such an extent that the entire congregation went into a frenzy. By the time Tommy finished the prayer, he was soaking wet with sweat.By then, practically the entire congregation had already leaped up off of the pews, shouting, dancing, others falling out in the aisles.
Even the ministers respected Tommy’s praying ability. Everyone automatically assumed that Tommy was simply anointed and called by God to preach.
However, when frequently asked by others if he was going to enter the ministry,
Tommy vehemently responded in the negative.
On the day Tommy died, his girlfriend dreamt that he knocked at her door but when she went to open it, no one was there. Others had similar dreams. It was rather eerie, to say the least. The last time I saw Tommy was in church that Sunday morning. I was sitting in the pulpit along with the pastor of the church, and I watched Tommy nervously looking for his eyeglasses which apparently he had lost. Around midnight, Tommy was found crushed between two huge machines at his job while working the midnight shift. No one found him and he died a slow and painful death.
I remember thinking, “to lose one’s glasses is symbolic of spiritual blindness.” Tommy’s mother was one of the old mothers, a pillar of the church, yet she too died an unseemly
death. Old and mentally challenged, Mother Thompson went out blaspheming and cussing from her nursing home bed.
Sad to say, there were so many others who suffered strange and unusual circumstances that I noted in my mind seemed perplexing to be happening to God’s people. It didn’t dawn on me then that perhaps these were not really God’s people but that they were either worshiping the Fake Jesus by ignorance or that they were reprobate imposters, un-concerned about sin.
For instance, I can remember a time when I was drawn into the case of a dying member with a brain tumor. I had a dream that she would be healed and live to see the birth of her first grandchild. To encourage Sister Perry I told her the dream. She smiled and looked puzzled
because all of her children, except one daughter, were homosexual. Yet a few days later, Sister Perry was astonished to learn that one of her gay sons had very recently impregnated a young woman. Now confident that my dream was from God, I went forth and laid hands on Sister Perry.
She died a few weeks later.
It was as if the devil mocked us both. He clearly gave me the dream, a dream with a half truth. Sister Perry DID NOT live to see the birth of her first grandchild.
I could actually write a book not only about the Denomination’s members, but I also witnessed similar cases among the Pentecostals, –mental health breakdowns,
criminal convictions, strange diseases and other unusual plagues. Close to home, in spite of my faithfulness as a pastor, I also observed signs of the plague among members of my own congregation. For example, as much as I tried to stop it, some of my members were predators. For example, if a drug addict were to visit my church for the first time, he would not be safe from those in the congregation who tried to cover up their own problem.