A different sort of “miracle” (part 3)

There were answers to all sorts of questions over the next couple weeks. In songs, in sermons, in overheard conversations. Someone answered some questions, listened to me and gave me a tour of the church, which made me more comfortable. I signed up for another Monday night class and was enjoying it. And at the same time, my blood pressure was going high enough to be hypertensive on church days, or even the day before. I would physically shake when I’d get to church sometimes, and I was having tension headaches. I couldn’t keep schedules straight in my mind. Church, even a church I was enjoying, scared me.

And yet… they were offering a new members’ class. Why not? I wasn’t joining, but I’d like to hear what they had to say, at least. So I signed up, being very certain to tell them this was NOT to join. And yet… I decided I’d better find my baptismal certificate and send them a copy anyway. Just in case. (That was hard to find. I’d gotten pretty mad and tucked it away, but not where I’d thought. And I should have THREE. But the first I was never given, the second was for a cult… so where was that third one?) I also emailed the last church I’d been a member of, asking for a church record. I never heard back. But I found that certificate and sent a copy. NOT because I’d ever join. But just in case.

By the day of the class I was still struggling with blood pressure and such, but I was getting better. I’d tried to talk to one of the pastors I hadn’t met and she was confused as to why the things I wanted to talk about were even discussion points. (Because they’d been HUGE everywhere I’d ever been!) That actually made me feel better, that she couldn’t even comprehend my concerns. They were that far off this church’s radar, these culty things that had been big problems other places.

In the class and one of the pastors put his hand on my back to get my attention and asked if I’d assist with communion at the end of class. OK, a few things: 1) pentecostals are deeply trained to say yes if asked by a pastor to do something, 2) I had only just accepted that it would be OK to receive communion even if I didn’t know what or if I believed… and 3) I know nothing about assisting and have only received communion maybe 3-4 times in a Methodist church in my life. I didn’t realize that until it was way too late to back out though. 4) in 1999 I was ‘sat down’ from all service in a Pentecostal church. I was never restored. In 2000 I was told never to return. All false accusations based on what the pastor “felt in his heart”. (The Salem witch trials reflect the same concept and line of questioning.) There are things I used to love to do that I couldn’t do since because of the condemnation and shame of all that. I told the pastor in a whisper “I have no clue what I’m doing,” and he smiled and said “just hold the cup”. And something clicked inside. The restoration I experienced during that few minutes just holding the cup… everything just started unlocking for lack of a better way to say it. Things that were broken for 23 years just…. suddenly weren’t anymore. 

At that point, I was seriously considering membership. How could I not? I’d been scared of the pastors. The communion service changed that somehow. I was free to serve again. I’d been somehow reinstated fully and completely while holding the cup. I was learning so much. But could I? Everything every church had required of me was based on what I could do or should do. This had to be about grace for me. It had to be based on God, not me.