Quest for God

Introduction

‘Gifts of healings’ next became my absorbing interest, and the Lord led me to a church where I was permitted to run a mid-week Service of Healing – a most wonderful challenge to my faith.

Then, within a couple of years the Charismatic renewal broke forth in some of the main-line churches, and, for a time, I became a person of some repute again.

Yet how very naïve I could still be in spiritual matters! A different group of churchmen had discovered the reality of spiritual gifts, and had called their experience by a different name – not ‘Pentecostal’ but ‘Charismatic’. I joyously linked up with them, got involved in a joint venture with a Catholic Nun – but again found the joy short-lived as time proved the Lord was not with us.

It seemed that to have a closer walk with the Lord must always mean to have unresolvable problems with the institutional church.

3.1

It is not really surprising that as a result of my ongoing question ‘What next Lord?’ I should find myself deeply prayerful about the ‘gifts of healings’, and absorbing all the stories – Old Testament as well as New – of the amazing physical cures which were the result of some contact with a ‘godly’ person.

In my Practice as a psychotherapist I had seen a wide range of physical symptoms disappear after in-depth psychotherapy, and I knew that the types of illnesses which might be labelled ‘psychosomatic’ were much wider than most medical men believed at that time. I had a continuous flow of patients with physical symptoms such as skin rashes, mild chronic infections in the eyes or ears, digestive or bowel problems, allergies, menstrual problems, etcetera, most referred by doctors who said things like “I’ll continue with the medication while you sort out what’s going on inside”. These doctors knew that such patients were healed more quickly when they had physical and psychological treatment combined.

I also witnessed the occasional dramatic healing of patients with life-threatening diseases who chose to talk to me to cleanse their conscience as they faced death. For example there was the man who knew he would have no voice after an operation for cancer in the throat; after his quite secular ‘confessions’ he did not need the operation!

I reasoned that if a restored ‘psyche’ could bring such physical release from suffering, how much more might a renewed ‘spirit’ affect both psyche and soma (body). At this level of questioning I was particularly intrigued by the progress of one long-term very neurotic patient. She ‘got religion’ – I put it that way because I was never sure whether she had actually found Christ – and lost her neurotic, regularly suicidal, behaviour. Then she developed a cancer of the lymph glands – diagnosed and treated by a specialist whom I knew well. Then in a ‘visitation from God’ she was dramatically healed of the cancer, and became a much-lauded witness to divine healing. But gradually, over about a two year period, her religious fervour waned and her earlier neuroticism returned (though she was no longer suicidal); however, seven years later she had had no recurrence of the cancer. I had no totally satisfactory psychological explanation for this case.

From time to time I was asked what I thought about ‘spiritual healing’ today, and I had numerous discussions with Christian doctors about cases like the one I have just described, so I was necessarily thrust into an examination of what Scripture taught on this subject as well as looking at what was happening in the churches round about.

The Scriptural evidence is strong. When God led His people out of Egypt and through the Red Sea to the safety of the Wilderness, He told them on their very first night of freedom: “If you will give earnest heed to the voice of the Lord your God, and do what is right in His sight, I will put none of the diseases on you which I have put on the Egyptians; for I, the Lord, am your Healer.” (Ex.15.26). God does not change. He must still be the Lord our Healer, in the church which is truly the “Israel of God”. (Gal.6.16)

Jesus, from the beginning of His public ministry, showed forth God’s healing power, often relating it to a life of righteousness before God; so that, for example, in healing the paralytic he said to the questioning scribes “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic ‘Your sins are forgiven’ or to say ‘Arise, take up your pallet and walk’”? (Mk.2.9) And to another He said, “Behold, you have become well; sin no more, so that nothing worse may befall you”. (Jn.5.14) And He sent His disciples out with power and authority to “proclaim the kingdom of God, and to perform healing”. (Lk.9.2)

Nowhere does Scripture suggest that this power and authority will be withdrawn. Rather Jesus says “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go to the Father”. (Jn.14.12) It is a basic tenet of our Christian faith that God does not change. It must be that the Lord is still available to heal today. This seemed to be the only reasonable conclusion I could arrive at through my study of Scripture.

But then I looked at my church, and saw their typical emptiness of expectation on the subject of healing. They said, in fact, that miracles had ceased, and that God no longer healed as He did when Jesus walked on earth; and that God’s statement about being ‘the Lord, your Healer’ was obviously just a word to the ancient Hebrews, and that instead, today, we have doctors and hospitals and modern medicine. In their praying they always reminded God about those people in the congregation who were sick, and expressed a vague hope that He might organise a healing through the skills of the doctor or maybe even the pharmaceutical chemist! But if healing did not occur, they never questioned why. And when someone died of their sickness they said, "God's Will be done!”

To hint that there might still today be a connection between sickness and sin - as was shown to be in the writings of both the Old Testament and the New - was to have the wrath of my fellow churchmen poured out upon me, and to be strongly warned against being arrogant, self-righteous, and wickedly judgmental! On one occasion, concerning the death of someone for whom the church had prayed - after their fashion - for a long time, I dared ask, at a prayer meeting, whether we might now seek the Lord as to why our prayers had not been answered, why it was apparently His Will that a young family be bereft of their mother. But I was very quickly and sternly rebuked for thus wanting to question God's Will - and that was the end of it!

I had to find out more. So I ventured forth - disguised in wig and glasses in the hope that I would not be recognised by anyone! - into the Pentecostal churches, the only churches in those days before the Charismatic Renewal where prayers for healing, along with 'laying on of hands’, were a regular ritual. But what I saw there was not encouraging. Sometimes the Lord was shouted at, commanded to come down at once and heal - as if He were the puppet and the preacher held the strings! Sometimes the people were pushed over backwards, and the demon within them roared at to come out and leave the patient in peace. Sometimes crutches, eye glasses, hearing aids, were tossed jubilantly around the 'stage' by the 'healer', as bewildered people were assured that they would not need these appliances any more. Often there were stories of great healings - but always they seemed to have happened at some other place, some other time! Sometimes a visiting evangelist, exercising, we were told, the 'word of knowledge', would declare that specific great healings were taking place in the congregation at that very moment: these declarations always evoked great cheers and hallelujahs - but were never ever confirmed by any follow-up of evidence or grateful testimonies at subsequent meetings! I did not find God healing, as Jesus healed, as the apostles healed, in these churches. In my spirit there were no 'Amens' in these assemblies; they only served to convince me again that I could never become a Pentecostalist.

Yet I knew that God must still be our Healer. I decided I just had to continue to absorb Scripture and wait expectantly until the Lord revealed the next step for me. And the Lord always responds when we truly seek Him with our whole heart. When I knew without any real doubt that the hour had come to actually experience the Lord's healing today, this is how it happened: -

Susan was a long-term psychological patient – classified as an ‘inadequate personality’ for whom the psychologist was a helpful 'crutch'. Her third child was nearing his first birthday, and was, to all eyes except Susan's, hopelessly retarded. He had the facial features of a Down's syndrome child - though doctors subsequently denied that he was - and still lay in his pram like a six-week-old babe, unresponsive to most stimuli. Susan's doctor had decided it was time she faced the reality of the child's future, called her into his surgery to talk about the child, explained to her all the things the child ought to be doing by his age, and warned her that he would be quite uneducable, would probably never even walk or gain bladder control. It was time to think about what to do with him in the future years.

Susan was, of course, devastated, and phoned me in tears. I had planned a free afternoon, so was able to offer to go to her. It was a twenty-minute drive, and on the way my heart was leaping and my mind was arguing with it.
    "I could pray for this child";
    "I am visiting her as her psychotherapist".
    "This is the opportunity God has given me";
    "You'll look a fool if nothing happens",
    "She knows I'm a Christian";
    "You're her psychotherapist, you don't mix roles";
and so on! As I neared the house, I realised that a corn on my toe was aching severely, and I said to the Lord in some desperate call for help. "Lord, if this is all of You, please stop my corn from aching". And he did!

I walked into the house tense in mind, yet calm in heart. I listened to her emotional outpourings. I asked her if I might nurse the baby. She said yes - then the phone rang in another room, and she went to answer it. The time had come! I held the baby to my heart, looked up to the Lord, and quietly besought Him, adding all the 'tongues' that my heart could produce. A few minutes later Susan returned to the room with a cup of tea; I told her I had prayed for her baby. She received it as simply as that. I took my leave. All was calm within.

The next evening came the incredible phone call. Father was nursing the baby on his lap, when baby wriggled, slithered to the floor, and began to bounce around, while making the sort of noises that babies of about that age do. God had answered prayer. (For those who like a longer-term report, the doctor decided his diagnosis was too extreme, but sent the child to a special 'day-care' centre for retarded children; by the time the boy was school age he was a mediocre pupil in an ordinary school.)

I expected there would be praise to God among those who knew the child; but no! The doctor - who was a church-going Christian - declared that he had just been over-pessimistic; after all there are always late developers among normal children: Susan simply asserted that she never did believe that her baby was as retarded as the doctor was trying to convince her; and her husband - always a silent man - just shrugged his shoulders and got on with his life. It seemed that only in my heart was there deep praise to God, and a deeper depth of awe towards Him - and there were very few people I could share it with!

One person I did share with was Madge, an ex-nurse who was a church acquaintance, and who knew Susan too. Madge had injured her back in nursing, undergone a spinal-fusion operation, and was on a disability pension, with a stiffened spine and a troublesome egg-shaped lump on a thigh where bone had been removed to graft into the spine. She asked me to pray for her back. I did so; and over the next week her back loosened up so that she could bend and touch her toes, and her lump first divided into two then gradually disappeared. Within a few weeks she gave up her pension and went back to a nursing job.

There were two more equally dramatic healings - then I was packing for a time in Japan, where my husband and I each had short-term academic appointments. I left with a sigh of relief, for I felt I needed time to comprehend all that had happened, and to ponder what it might continue to mean to me.

Of one thing I felt rather certain. These developments would not improve my standing with the Baptists! They had already passed judgment on my 'gift of tongues': if now I was known to be exercising powers of healing, then I would probably be openly labelled a witch! How could I continue to be a Baptist?

3.2

It is interesting how often my husband’s time of work overseas coincided with my need to get away from my regular church surrounds. The time spent in Japan seemed to be just what I needed then. But during that time I learned that my husband would be returning home for only about eight months, and that then we would be leaving again for a year in England. This was at first very frustrating news, for I could not re-open my Practice for a mere eight months then close down again for another year. But there was nothing I could do about it; so I decided to turn my attention to what the Lord would have me do with the eight months of emptiness I would now face back home, between Japan and England. More and more I knew I wanted to further explore the conviction that God still heals today. But what could I actually do?

On the way home the Lord began to make that clear. To my great surprise He told me to write to the Elders of a large but rather empty Presbyterian church in an inner suburb, requesting permission to use their church as a venue for a regular week-day Healing Service. I wrote as He directed, though without at all expecting an affirmative response - I thought the Lord must be just testing my preparedness to obey! So I was quite astounded when I received a speedy reply from the Presbyterians: "Certainly. When do you want to start?"

I was given a key to the church building. There were no questions asked; no conditions set. I subsequently learned that some of the Elders of that church had had contacts with me when I was Chairman of the Congregational Union, and that, though almost ten years had passed since then, they felt they could trust my guidance!

The next few weeks were intensely challenging. I had to act quickly and responsibly. I had the use of a church. What did He really want me to do in this church? I named for the Presbyterians a Wednesday morning three weeks ahead, to begin the Services; I bought about three dozen hymn books which I felt would be more appropriate than those used by the Presbyterians; and I remembered that one of the women who had received a healing through my hands before I went to Japan had once been a church organist; I approached her and she agreed to become the organist for my Services of Worship. Then I put a brief notice in the Church Notices column of the week-end newspaper: "Prayers for Healing", and the time and place. That was all - except for the urgent seeking from the Lord on exactly what to say and do!

From my visits to Pentecostal services in the previous years I knew clearly two things NOT to do. Firstly, I would not try to whip the people up emotionally. From all my years of experience as a psychologist, I knew more than the average person about the power of the emotions. I understood something of the mechanics of how a man faced with a charging bull could run like the wind, scale a high fence, then collapse trembling on the other side. I had seen a hypnotist, by controlling a subject's mind, convince him that he had been healed of cancer, and saw that man walk pain-free for a day or more before collapsing back into his previous physical state; in a similar non-Christian, emotionally charged atmosphere, I had seen a woman rise triumphantly from her wheel-chair and walk - only to be, brokenly, back in that wheel-chair the following day. And I could write more in this vein.

And in Pentecostal churches I had seen the preacher whipping his congregation to an emotional high, causing them to declare healings - and sometimes to manifest signs of healings too; and in the next few days, when the effects of the rush of adrenaline and all the other emotional factors had subsided, I knew these people to be sadly tracking back to their doctor's surgery, lamenting that their faith had not been strong enough for them to keep their healing! I have even stood at a graveside and heard such a preacher declare that Joan had in fact been healed of her cancer when he had laid hands on her, but that the Lord had decided to take Joan to Himself anyway! I felt I knew the difference between emotion whipped up by man and the emotion which was a heart-felt response to the intervention of God. I would never attempt to orchestrate emotional highs.

Secondly, I would not have sick people standing in lines waiting to be prayed for. If these people who were seeking healings were really as sick as they claimed, how could 'love' have them standing in queues as if catching a bus at peak-hour, while they waited for the healing hands of prayer to be laid upon them. Rather I would keep the front pews reserved for the sick; and I would go to them, sit beside them, and pray.

Beyond that I had to wait on further guidance; and the principles the Lord then led me into remained basic to my ongoing ministry. Just three really: -
 (1) Choose hymns carefully; if you are leading the congregation to sing words they do not believe, you are teaching them to become hypocrites.
 (2) In preaching and teaching, offer nothing that cannot be clearly illustrated and confirmed in Holy Scripture. Opinions and theories and reminiscences of the most learned and interesting people are useless unless supportable by God's Word in Scripture.
 (3) When people come to you for help, encourage them to talk to the Lord for themselves; a simple "Please help me Lord" from the lips of the sick person or the parent of a sick child have proved to be more valuable in the situation than ten minutes of supplication from the preacher; for in uttering his own needs in prayer that suppliant is testing and stretching and maturing his own faith.

So I chose hymns with great care, sometimes talking briefly to the people about the hymn before we sang it; and sometimes omitting a verse, maybe because the words did not seem relevant to us, or because we had not, as a group, reached a closeness to God to really understand the feelings expressed. And I learned to ask God what message He wanted me to share on each occasion; and He would always lead me to a section of Scripture - Old Testament or New - through which I could expound both His desire for our wholeness and His Power to heal. And I learned to sit beside a person, listen to his or her needs, and suggest "I'll put my hand on where it hurts, you talk to God about it, and then I'll pray too." If people were genuinely too upset to pray for themselves, I accepted that.

But, back to that first healing Service. As a result of that one short newspaper notice, a dozen people turned up - and, to the best of my knowledge, none of them ever came back again! But the next week - with no further advertising - some two-dozen people were there, and they returned, and some brought their friends, so that the meeting gradually grew to about five or six-dozen people each week.

Among those who experienced healings in the early days was the wife of one of the Presbyterian Elders of that church. Perhaps because of her testimony, the church invited me to lead their regular Sunday evening Service as well. So, within a few weeks, I became quite fully occupied in this new work. They were months of rejoicing. God was healing in our midst - broken bones, and varieties of sicknesses, sometimes dramatically, immediately; more often quietly, over a week or so. People were testifying to their healings, and growing in faith in God. Then it was time to close down, and disappear to England for a year!

                                                 * * * * * * * * * * * *

Strangely enough, during those few months of ministry, the matter of my church membership seemed utterly unimportant. I still attended the Baptist church fairly regularly. Although the Minister and the Elders were quite aware of my ministry in the Presbyterian church, they chose not to confront me in any way. It was as if to them I had become a non-person.

As for the Presbyterians, I told them that I had become a Baptist but that I was no longer happy there; but since the Uniting Church now seemed quite imminent (it was actually five years away by now) they seemed to have no interest in converting me to Presbyterianism. And as I knew that I was only there with them for a few months, I felt utterly free to speak and do as God directed. I was answerable only to Him.

3.3

Immediately upon my return from England, I was met by a delegation - Elders of the church where I had held the 'Healing' meetings the year before, and some others who had attended those meetings regularly, and had chosen to stay together as a prayer group during my twelve months absence. They asked me to resume these meetings on a long-term basis, and I readily agreed, and swung back into this work at once.

I found that I had absolutely no desire to resume my career as a psychotherapist. My two years absence from psychology had convinced me that the Lord did not want me working with people in that way any more. Why should people pour out their problems to me, on an hourly appointment basis, for a large fee, when I could point them to Jesus, through Whom, at no monetary cost, they could receive far greater assurance of health and wholeness? Once I understood that, in the depths of my heart, then to have continued in psychology would have been double-minded hypocrisy.

However, I did not expect the reaction I received from the Christian doctors who had been referring patients to me over the years. I had several confrontations - some angry, some confused, some of the calm "do think it over again, and heed my advice" style, all assuring me that I was a far better emissary for Christ as a psychotherapist than I would ever be as a female evangelist - and no more invitations to dinner ever came! I was no longer a person of good repute!

Nor, of course, did my reputation with my fellow Baptists improve in any way. Behind my back I was derided, and various 'tall stories' about my life trickled through to me; to my face it was still avoidance, as of a leper. Yet I still did not feel free to just sever my membership with that church. God had led me there, and that was that until further notice! So I doggedly continued to worship with them most Sunday mornings, still contributing my tithe to the ongoing work of that church, and accepting the uselessness of trying to be friendly.

But I did have cause to wonder what was happening in the hearts and minds of those in positions of responsibility in that church. During this time when I felt that I was being so roundly condemned, one Elder dropped dead in the street, another suffered a kidney infection which kept him an invalid for some twelve months, and a third had a baby who lived only a few weeks; and the Minister himself had a cancerous growth removed, and subsequently left the ministry and turned to secular work. Were all these things unrelated coincidences? I knew that the modern church would confidently answer "Yes, just coincidences!"

In retrospect I find it hard to comprehend that at this stage of my walk I was still so enslaved to the church. I just never asked that so logical question "If my God is telling me to lead a Service of Worship in one church, could that same God be telling a Minister in another church to deride me?" Or, more directly, "Would He want me to continue in membership in a church which was treating me so unlovingly?" I still assumed that to please God one had to be a church member; so I hung on in with these rude people and their Minister for nearly two more years, till changed domestic circumstances made my resignation more 'logical' in my eyes!

But my life was centred around my new opportunity for ministry. I spoke of it light-heartedly as my new semi-retirement career, but I poured my all into it, for I knew this to be God's Will for me.

It was quite easy to step into the 'ministry' life-style again. The general format had been well established in the previous eight-month 'trial run', and I do not remember that we even advertised our re-opening. It just got around that the 'ministry' had resumed, and people came - sixty to eighty on a Thursday morning and twenty to thirty on a Sunday evening; not large numbers, but with a regular flow-through, as people felt they had got what they came for, and moved back into their own churches.

There was never a thought of building up a regular congregation of my own. But a small group had chosen to stay together during my twelve months absence overseas, and their number was added to bit by bit, so that I always had some 'regulars' who could be relied upon for all sorts of help, and whose attendance gave our worship time a sense of continuity.

As well as the two Services, other activities were added over time. Thursday lunch together became a feature, with the 'regulars' bringing food to share, and invitations to join us extended to all visitors. Thursday afternoons became a time of hospital visitation. Wherever there were requests for me to talk with, or pray with, someone who was in hospital, or bed-ridden at home, I would try to make such visits on Thursday afternoons, after our Service and lunch together, and would usually take one or two of our 'regulars' with me. One of these women soon volunteered to tape my weekly sermons; and she titled and catalogued them and took charge of this cassette lending library. She took the cassettes - along with a portable player if it was needed - into hospitals and homes, lending them freely to whomever asked.

Sometimes the cassettes were used in quite unexpected ways, as the following story reveals: -
I dropped in unexpectedly to a Sunday Worship service where the Minister was an acquaintance whose wife came regularly to my week-day Service. As I listened to this man's sermon I thought, progressively, "This is a good sermon!" "God has shown this man many of the things He has revealed to me!" "This sermon is progressing along very familiar lines!" "This is one of my sermons, practically word for word!" When challenged after the Service he confessed that this was in fact so - and without any apparent embarrassment, saying that he had thus preached several of my best sermons! I smilingly reminded him of the word of God through Jeremiah: "… behold I am against the prophets who steal My words from each other"! (Jer. 23.30)

I was also given an inner suburban apartment for ministry use, rent-free for two years. I used it for three main purposes: -
(1) as a venue for small group discussions;
(2) for private one-to-one sharing, especially where some one had a reason for not wanting to invite me into their home;
(3) as a place where country visitors could stay, without charge, for a few days while they sought ministry help and prayer.

Yet, because I was now involved in an ongoing, long-term ministry, the earlier emphasis on 'healing' gradually changed. Always the personal prayer-time and testimony time were there, but the teaching broadened. Many of these people had seen, felt, been committed, concerning God's Will to heal, and it was time to teach them something more about staying well, becoming whole, spirit, soul, and body; recognising the Lord's voice, seeking His guidance, walking His way; a statement that real Christianity must be relevant to our whole way of life.

3.4

Meanwhile, in the wider church sphere, something quite tempestuous had been happening which was to affect me and my ministry deeply over the next few years. The Charismatic Movement had broken forth in the more traditional churches. In Catholic, Anglican, and those which were soon to become the Uniting Church, everyone was talking about the 'spiritual gifts', and every denomination seemed divided for and against the new phenomenon; new converts and aging ministers and priests were alike claiming and demonstrating the 'gift of tongues'. Only Baptists seemed to be unitedly holding out against this 'new' spiritual explosion.

To me it meant that I was no longer a 'loner'; I now had friends who I felt, understood and shared my spiritual walk, friends especially among Anglicans, within whose ranks a local Charismatic Fellowship was started, meeting regularly across denominational boundaries. Through these gatherings I met and made some lasting friendships with Catholic Pentecostal priests and nuns, some of who had shared for a time in the Catholic Pentecostal revival in the U.S.A. It was an emotionally exuberant time; we all believed that the Lord was doing something special in our land.

But while I had been so alert to the spiritual dangers of Pentecostalism, ongoing events proved that I was still quite blind to basically similar ‘counterfeits’ among many of the Charismatics who stayed within the traditional church structures. These were mostly Catholics and Anglicans. They were theologically educated, their meetings were quiet and orderly, and they called themselves Charismatics, not Pentecostalists. They were my sort of people, and it took a couple of years before the presence of counterfeit gifts among them became apparent to me, by which time I had been slowly drawn into an unpleasant situation.

It began when a friendly Catholic priest laid his hands upon me in ritualistic, liturgical fashion, and pronounced that the Lord had called me to found a Healing Home. I made no immediate response, having learned the lesson that, if it is of God, then usually, in time, something else happens independently to confirm it.

Then some months later, in some special situation when I was receiving Communion in an Anglican Church, I had a quite amazing vision which seemed to be such confirmation. A building seemed to come down from heaven, like the vision of the New Jerusalem; a building in the shape of the Cross, with a series of small bedrooms in the arms of the Cross, and a chapel at its foot. The building had colonnaded walk-ways down both sides, after the style of old monastic enclosures, and aeroplanes were flying low overhead. I was easily able to draw a detailed sketch of my vision, which I called Hesed House - from the Hebrew word for 'steadfast love' - and showed it to several of my friends. This, I declared, was what the Lord would somehow provide for us for our Healing Home!

Some time later I was praying with a Catholic Sister who felt that the Lord was talking to her about a 'house of prayer' for all Christians. I told her of my vision, and we decided that our two projects - the Healing Home and the House of Prayer - might well be one and the same, and we continued to talk and share with this expectation.

This was a time when Catholic religious orders were losing numbers fast, and it seemed that several large buildings could possibly become available for uses such as ours. One day the Sister invited me to go with her to inspect a potentially suitable building, which her Superior, who had given tentative approval to our project, thought she could acquire for us. When I saw the building I could hardly believe it - it was the house of my vision in every incredible detail! Even the low-flying aeroplanes were there, for the building was near an airport! We claimed it joyously, got permission to hold meetings there, and gathered together a small committee to plan the future work.

Then for weeks and weeks… nothing more happened! The Sister said she was awaiting final approval from her Superior, and could not understand the delay: then one day she reported with a very sad face that she was to become a Parish Assistant to a priest in a new suburb, and so could no longer plan to work with me; but her Superior felt that there was no reason why I should not continue with my plans, since there were Catholic laymen on my committee.

I felt extremely uneasy. For myself I would have just walked away, but there was now a group of people involved and money was being offered for the work. I eventually decided that I could only continue with the plan if the Archbishop himself approved of the altered circumstances. I made an appointment with him.

As I drove to the appointment it suddenly occurred to me that he probably knew nothing whatsoever of the venture! It was widely known that he was nearing retirement, and was leaving more and more of the routine work of his diocese in the hands of his assistants. So, when I was ushered into his presence, I carefully presented my story with an "As you know…" and all the necessary details - as if to remind a busy man of things he may well have forgotten - and as I watched his face I knew for sure that he had never known! He rose from his chair, angrily slammed his fists on his large, ornate desk, and roared "Woman, get out of my sight; and get out of that building!" And I did both with all speed! I later discovered that the Archbishop had strong personal ties with that whole property in his earlier years, and that he would have been unlikely to hand it over lightly to even the purest Catholic group.

This was an unforgettable lesson about the powers of the Adversary even in the midst of the church: -
 (1) a priest had made over me this prophecy - a prophecy which eventually proved to be not from God: I carried this prophecy in my heart, assuming it was a word from the Lord.
 (2) I thus opened myself to a wonderful and powerful vision which I also assumed was from God: and this vision was able to be revealed to me at the altar in an Anglican church, during Communion!
 (3) I was united with a Sister who was also carrying in her heart guidance which proved to be false - a belief that God was asking her to found a House of Prayer.
 (4) A Sister Superior was used to lead us to the building which fulfilled my vision and was apparently the culmination of our guidance and the setting for our future work.
 (5) Another priest was involved in actually making this building available to us.
 (6) And, as a final seal to the whole affair, I was virtually cursed by an Archbishop - after which the whole fabric of falsehood crumbled like a house of cards!

At least six people, including myself, each of whom had devoted his/her life to the full-time service of the Lord, all led astray by voices and visions and guidance which were not from God. Such is the power of Satan still to do his work within the churches! Yet Jesus says "…. the sheep follow him (the shepherd) because they know his voice. And a stranger they simply will not follow… because they do not know the voice of strangers." (Jn.10.4-5)

I began to ask more earnestly for the gift of discernment - to truly know His voice. I also realised anew the futility – the deceit – of an ongoing fellowship with Christians who continued to belong to a denomination that I could never become a part of – because of their creeds, because of their rituals, because of all that the Lord had shown me when I left Congregationalism and began my search for a new church home. And I saw that the gentler, quieter exercise of ‘spiritual gifts’ in no way guaranteed that they were empowered by the Holy Spirit. So I ceased my wanderings among charismatic circles, and once more walked alone with God.

3.5

Through all this, my weekly Healing Ministry continued on. But the hopeful zeal was no longer in me really. I still sought the Lord earnestly for the messages I brought; I was still as freely available as ever - though the events I have just been describing were certainly discouraging, and were no secret to my supporters. But, primarily, I was increasingly seeing in my congregation various disturbing effects of the charismatic renewal. People were zealous - but not to know the Lord, to follow His Way, to give their life unconditionally - rather they were zealous to grab and to demonstrate their 'spiritual gifts': and they were endlessly 'church-hopping' to get what they wanted. There was no willingness to hear the Lord's words about repentance and sanctification: and without repentance and sanctification there is no growth in our relationship with God, no drawing nearer.

People would ask me to lay hands on them and to ask the Lord to give them the 'gift of tongues': if I prevaricated - for whatever good reason, for I was learning the wisdom of Paul's words to Timothy: "Do not lay hands upon anyone too hastily and thus share responsibility for the sins of others:" (1 Tim. 5.22) - they would be off to another church and a more willing Minister. The chronically sick would present themselves at one healing service after another around town, as if determined to win the 'jack-pot' of healing some place some day! If I said it was not trusting God for me to pray for them today, since Pastor 'X' had done so just two days previously, they got very upset, and usually just moved on to Pastor 'Z'.

They wanted to lay hands on each other in prayer, which I would not permit in my Service, not only because of Paul's guidance, as quoted above, but also because I had more than once experienced in my own flesh the traumatic effects of some spiritually 'polluted' hand offering prayer for me, uninvited - including the story I have just recorded of my attempts to work with a Catholic nun to found a Healing Home - all of which had its beginning in a too hasty 'laying on of hands'.

Also there were those attending my Services who claimed to have a gift of prophecy, and would try to interrupt the worship with a strident "Thus saith the Lord" in every style of weal and woe! And there were often one or two of the over-pious, who held aloft their little palm crosses, whatever time of the year, with gasps of joy; or prostrated themselves on the floor with ecstatic groanings; or burst into weird chanting 'tongues' in any moment of silence!

I am not wanting to give the impression that most of the congregation were like this, or that it resulted in unrestrained hubbub; but, as every classroom teacher knows, it only takes one or two uncontrolled naughty children to upset the atmosphere of the whole class; and this is how it seemed, increasingly, week after week. There was always the 'core' of good, well-meaning church-goers, who were ready to help as they were able - with transport, food, or sick visits, or child care. But, as time went by, one thing about them became clear to me - they were the sort of 'good' people that every church has, who, after years of listening to sermons and attending Bible Studies, are still, to their dying day, "always learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." (2 Tim. 3.7) They were not growing into the maturity of faith which the Lord expects of us.

So for me 'job satisfaction' had now reached a rather low ebb. I felt that I was continuing to do something mainly because I had started it in good faith and I had not yet heard the Lord say "Stop". I was prayerfully awaiting further guidance. The new Uniting Church was to become a functioning entity the following year, so I knew that my time in that Presbyterian church was now short. Then I learned the name of the Minister who was to take pastoral charge there, and I knew that I wanted no contact with that man whatsoever. Surely the Lord would direct me again soon.

Then one day I went into the Service with two pieces of Scripture, not knowing which I was to use, or what God would say through them. When the time came to open our Bibles I was, it seemed, stretched to my limits to speak exactly what the Lord was now giving me to speak. I opened at Isaiah Chapter 6 and read and expounded on verses 9 and 10. Then I read to them what Jesus had said to His disciples concerning the multitudes who were following Him about, and His interpretation of the passage from Isaiah: -
                                                          " . . . . .. while seeing they do not see, and while hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. And in their case the prophecy of Isaiah is being fulfilled, which says,
   'You will keep on hearing, but will not understand;
   'And you will keep on seeing, but will not perceive;
   'For the heart of this people has become dull,
   'And with their ears they scarcely hear,
   'And they have closed their eyes
   'Lest they should see with their eyes
   'And hear with their ears,
   'And understand with their hearts and return,
   'And I should heal them.'" (Matt. 13.13-15)
Then I said, "I can teach you nothing more in this place. The Lord had nothing more to say to you here. This Ministry in ended." And I walked out through their midst as they sat stunned and silent!

Within a week my husband was telling me that we would soon be working overseas again for twelve months!

Once again this information came as a relief. Whatever had been happening within my ministry, it now had to close down; I had to go with my husband; the Lord was still in control. But also, in those last few weeks of ministry, I had been taught a very hard lesson. Though people saw and experienced, even in their own flesh, God’s goodness to them, week after week, though Scripture had been opened to them at a depth that most had never experienced before, though most proudly thought of themselves as good Christians, yet not one seemed to actually want that life-saving experience which is the deeper relationship with God: they just wanted a religion which ‘worked’ for them!

3.6

Pentecostal and Charismatic ministers typically emphasized the miracles of both Healings and Deliverance from evil spirits. Deliverance ministry never occurred in the Services which I have thus far written of, nor, publicly, at any time hereafter, not because I lacked this gift, but because I was repulsed by the open performance of these ‘rites’ in Pentecostal Services, and felt strongly that, in loving respect for all concerned, they should only be performed privately.

Like most educated Westerners, I had not believed in a ‘power of evil’ by whatever name, but the Lord actually brought the whole concept to my attention in a very dramatic way years earlier, while I was still a practising psychotherapist. This was my experience: -

Betty was an unmarried woman in her thirties, known to be a severe asthmatic. She seemed to have asthmatic attacks whenever she was under emotional stress, and it was hoped that I could delve into her childhood history and discover something of a psychological source. But the progress was very slow because the asthmatic paroxysms surfaced whenever we got near to some touchy area in her overly stressed childhood. I had begun to ask questions about her relationship with her father, whom I knew was now dead. She immediately went into a paroxysm so deep that, very quickly, she appeared to have lost consciousness.

I had never experienced such an episode, and, in my inner voice, I cried out in panic “Lord, what should I do?” And the Lord, quite clearly, in His voice which no-one else hears, said, “Cast out the evil spirit impersonating her dead father.” So I said, with all the Lord’s authority, “In Jesus’ Name, come out of her, you evil spirit impersonating her father.” And her body twisted, she opened her eyes and sat up, and said, “What happened? I’m free!”

It was the quickest and easiest Deliverance I have ever performed, but her ‘freedom’ did not last long. Betty persistently refused to talk about her father, and the asthma returned within a few weeks.

Through the years I have had several similar experiences with people who believed they were making contact with a dead loved one: and I have been used to deliver people from problems arising from dabbling in false religions, hard drugs, sexual abnormalities, and many other less dramatic problems to which people have become addicted and enslaved.

But, even as with the Healing ministry, I eventually was given to see that, while some people rejoiced in their new-found freedom and grew in their confidence in the Lord, most went away self-satisfied with a bit more peace within, but did not strive on to that closer walk with God that was being offered to them.