“You don’t have enough faith. God wants to mature your faith. And for you to grow, you need to fall backwards into this man’s arms.” I looked at this strange woman who I had met just five minutes ago. Then I looked at the man, my would-be catcher, whose name I didn’t even know.
Let’s rewind the story for context. My husband and I, co-leaders of a Christian student ministry on a college campus is Los Angeles, had been tipped off that several of our college students had been attending a church with cultic practices. In an effort to discern what was going on, we decided to visit one of the church’s evening services. We arrived and sat down for what seemed to be a typical church service, with some prayer, music, and teaching.
After the formal program, people began to mingle and chat. The leader of the group, a petite woman with a no-nonsense attitude, approached us, and struck up a conversation. After a few minutes of chatting, she turned to Steve, and asked “Can I pray for you?” Steve answered with a polite, yet firm, “No thank you.”
Then she looked at me. “Can I pray for you?” I felt uneasy, but also intimidated. “Um, sure,” I said.
She stood in front of me, and started speaking in an indecipherable language while staring at me. This was how she prayed, apparently. After several minutes, she addressed me, “You don’t have enough faith. God wants to mature your faith.” This seemed likely to me; don’t we all need to stretch in faith in some way or another? “For you to grow, you need to fall backwards into this man’s arms.”
Excuse me, I thought. That was quite a bit of certainty she had with regards to what God thought I should do. Was there any room for me to hear from God? Because frankly, he was not telling me to do a trust fall. “No, thanks. I’m not going to do that.”
“Do you trust God? You need to obey him, and fall backwards.” By this point in my life, I had learned to generally trust my intuition. And my intuition was sending me all sorts of warning signals. “No. I don’t hear God saying that to me.” For good measure I said, “And I do not know this guy,” pointing at Mr. Catcher. She pressed the issue, saying, “You’re not going to listen to God?”
This woman was telling me that she knew what God wanted, and was equating her command with God's. Everything about the situation was making me uncomfortable. “No,” I said again. Finally, she seemed to get the message. She looked me in the eye, shook her head, and moved on to talk to someone else.
Years later, some of the college students ended up leaving the church because it was, in their words, “manipulative” and “abusive.” As for me, God has matured my faith in many ways since that night. But I still have never heard him tell me to do a trust fall.
Let’s rewind the story for context. My husband and I, co-leaders of a Christian student ministry on a college campus is Los Angeles, had been tipped off that several of our college students had been attending a church with cultic practices. In an effort to discern what was going on, we decided to visit one of the church’s evening services. We arrived and sat down for what seemed to be a typical church service, with some prayer, music, and teaching.
After the formal program, people began to mingle and chat. The leader of the group, a petite woman with a no-nonsense attitude, approached us, and struck up a conversation. After a few minutes of chatting, she turned to Steve, and asked “Can I pray for you?” Steve answered with a polite, yet firm, “No thank you.”
Then she looked at me. “Can I pray for you?” I felt uneasy, but also intimidated. “Um, sure,” I said.
She stood in front of me, and started speaking in an indecipherable language while staring at me. This was how she prayed, apparently. After several minutes, she addressed me, “You don’t have enough faith. God wants to mature your faith.” This seemed likely to me; don’t we all need to stretch in faith in some way or another? “For you to grow, you need to fall backwards into this man’s arms.”
Excuse me, I thought. That was quite a bit of certainty she had with regards to what God thought I should do. Was there any room for me to hear from God? Because frankly, he was not telling me to do a trust fall. “No, thanks. I’m not going to do that.”
“Do you trust God? You need to obey him, and fall backwards.” By this point in my life, I had learned to generally trust my intuition. And my intuition was sending me all sorts of warning signals. “No. I don’t hear God saying that to me.” For good measure I said, “And I do not know this guy,” pointing at Mr. Catcher. She pressed the issue, saying, “You’re not going to listen to God?”
This woman was telling me that she knew what God wanted, and was equating her command with God's. Everything about the situation was making me uncomfortable. “No,” I said again. Finally, she seemed to get the message. She looked me in the eye, shook her head, and moved on to talk to someone else.
Years later, some of the college students ended up leaving the church because it was, in their words, “manipulative” and “abusive.” As for me, God has matured my faith in many ways since that night. But I still have never heard him tell me to do a trust fall.
RSS Feed
