From Cult to Christian

Cult – A religion or religious sect generally considered to be extremist or false, with its followers often living in an unconventional manner under the guidance of an authoritarian, charismatic leader.

My story may be familiar to many people who walked a similar path, but it has taken a lifetime to undo the damage and discover the true love of Jesus Christ in my life. The good thing is, I made that journey and that discovery.

I was raised in a United Pentecostal Church – a Jesus name-only congregation in southern Illinois. Like most legalistic environments, the church controlled my life for 11 years. My friends were there. My social life revolved around the church. I attended five services a week, plus choir rehearsals, church work days and Sunday School bus ministry.

At times, I firmly embraced their doctrine and biblical interpretations. Other times, I didn’t understand and often fell short of their expectations. Rather then lift me up during those times, the church ostracized me — labeled me “lost” and demanded my repentance at the alter. For a confused teenager, these times impaled my soul with vicious thoughts of Judgement Day and eternal damnation.

That church determined with whom I could associate. They dictated what I could wear, where I worked, what I did in my free time, and how I spent my money. In essence, they regulated every aspect of my life. They didn’t force my obedience. They didn’t put a gun to my head.

They didn’t have to.

The threat of spending eternity in hell was pretty good motivation. It was never an easy walk though.

When I grew a mustache at age 14, I was pulled from the choir. When I grew it back at 16, I was removed from Sunday School bus ministry. And, when I forgot to shave on a Sunday a few years later, I was refused communion and lost my church membership. Mustaches — I was told — were a sin because Jesus Christ didn’t wear one. Men had to be clean shaven all the time. I grew to loathe Sunday evening church service because it always ended with me sitting in the pastor’s office hearing about some alleged violation of doctrine or standards.

I left the church when I was 22 years old and ran as far away from religion as was possible. I refused to attend any church. I refused to listen to any pastor. I refused to pick up the Bible for fear of further contaminating my mind. I viewed my former pastor with such distain that any conversation about God or religion immediately released a surge of negative thoughts.

It wasn’t all bad. Nearly 30 years later, some of my closest friends are people I met at that church. None of them still attend there, and most share my common opinion of our experience. Many have found the true love of God in other places and in different ways. Not all though. Some are so damaged they may never know the true God.

That changed two years ago when I stumbled across a small church in central Virginia. It is a non-denominational Christian church that was home to a mix of Presbyterians, Methodists, Catholics, Baptists and even a few Pentecostals. They focused on the Bible, serving God, and holding each other up in the walk of life. They were Christians – followers of Jesus Christ.

I joined a bible study group led by Rev. Nancy White, one of the most inspiring women I have ever met. Her depth of understanding and decades of service to God made each weekly session a total joy. For the first time ever, I truly enjoyed learning what the scriptures said and how it applied to my life. There was no wrong answer, but I did have a lot of wrong beliefs. They helped me understand that the foundation of salvation does not rest with a single verse in the Book of Acts, and that an eternal life with Jesus Christ rests in the simple promises made in John 3:16-17. They taught me that the Bible is inspired writings to help us live our life – it is not an inflexible rule book meant for our damnation.

I learned a relationship with Jesus Christ is a lifetime event. There will be moments when we walk together, moments when I stray away, and times when He is carrying me.

But, my salvation isn’t dependent upon me making the right decision every single time. Hell isn’t my destination simply because I fall short of His expectations.

Not all UPC churches are a cult and most of the people who attend those churches are genuinely good, God-fearing people. But, there are many different kinds of cults. I’m glad I found the truth in a place that helped me understand the full love of God and helped me heal from a lifetime of religious negativity.

The promise of eternal life with Jesus Christ is not dependent on the length of your dress or whether you wear cosmetics. The length of your hair will not guarantee admission to heaven. And the small gold necklace hanging around your neck will not send you to hell anymore then wearing a mustache will. Salvation does not depend on whether you are in church five times a week or just once a year.

I grew up in a Christian church with a cult leaning. I found what being a Christian means in a small church that showed the love of God in word and in practice.

Salvation rests at the cross and in the promise of Jesus Christ. It really is just that simple.


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