Thursday, November 6, 2014

Ramblings of a Renegade Pentecostal

This essay reflects in part, this writer's spiritual journey in terms of both faith and the practice of the profession of the ministry.  At the same time, it is intended to have you the reader do the following:

1.  Reflect upon and evaluate your own spiritual journey, regardless of what it looks like.
2.  Share with us whatever you feel comfortable with relative to this essay.

I am a New York born and raised Puerto Rican.  In my childhood, like most other Puerto Rican children of my time, I was baptized in the Roman Catholic Church.  I must say that my baptism took place, for the most part, not because of any desire of my parents to raise me in the faith, per se, but rather because it was the cultural thing to do.  For many people, religion is nothing more than folk religion, where they practice it as part of their culture. I was really never encouraged by my parents to attend Mass or to be involved in the life of the church.

In my pre-teen years, my sister and I attended Sunday School in a United Methodist church in Staten Island, New York.  I simultaneously attended religious instruction in a Lutheran church on Wednesday afternoons, during a time when students were allowed to be dismissed from school early in order to attend the congregation of their choice for religious instruction.

At the age of 12, I started attending a predominantly Puerto Rican Pentecostal church in Staten Island.  It was in this church where I made my profession of faith and commitment to Jesus and promised to follow Him all the days of my life.  In this church, I became active in the youth group, and preached my first "sermon" at the age of 14.  It was in this environment where I first became exposed to the "holiness standards" of the Pentecostal movement.  These standards consisted of the imposition of dress codes, and an emphasis on abstinence from alcohol and tobacco, as well as refraining from participating in "worldly" things such as dancing, mixed bathing and attending the theaters.  Numerous Bible verses were used to support this legalistic aspect of holiness. It was emphasized that the Bible prohibited believers from "sitting in the seat of the ungodly," and that by so doing, we would run the risk of "losing our salvation." I enjoyed participating in the style of worship that was carried out in the church,  and even played my guitar in these services.

During my high school years, I joined a Christian club by the name of Hi-BA which stood for High School Born Again.  In this club, I mixed with Christians of different denominations, i.e Baptist, Methodist, etc.  In the Pentecostal movement at that time, non-Pentecostal Christians were considered
"cold" because they "did not have the Holy Spirit."  A Baptist would be considered a half brother or sister.  A Methodist, Lutheran, or Presbyterian could possibly be seen as "cousins."  Catholics, Episcopalians, and Orthodox Christians were considered "out of the fold," because their churches were considered "falsifications of Christianity."  Through interaction with my friends in Hi-BA and other churches and organizations, I learned two things in particular.

1.  The Body of Christ does not consist exclusively of Pentecostals.  These names that we use to designate ourselves, are human constructs that have absolutely nothing to do with how God sees us.

2.  Pentecostals do not have a monopoly on the Holy Spirit.  This was a hard pill for me to swallow because I was under the impression that the Pentecostal movement was the one that most accurately resembled the early Church which was started on the day of Pentecost.  I learned the hard way that people experience the Holy Spirit in different ways, and cannot be boxed into doctrinal modes.

In 1967, I was initiated into the formal aspect of ministry by teaching at the Latin American Bible Institute in New York City, a Pentecostal Bible school from which I had graduated a year earlier after 3 years of study.  I taught at that school for 3 years. In 1969, I was credentialed as an ordained minister by an independent Pentecostal church at the age of 22.  In 1977, those credentials were transferred into the Assemblies of God, the largest Pentecostal organization in the world.  In the meantime, I was a student at the New Brunswick Theological Seminary in New Jersey.  Upon my graduation from New Brunswick Seminary in 1978, my credentials were transferred into the Reformed Church in America, the oldest Protestant church in the United States.  I have been a Reformed Church minister ever since, having served in Reformed and Presbyterian churches, and teaching at various colleges and seminaries.

The purpose of this brief autobiographical sketch has not been to bore the reader with my life's journey per se, but rather to talk about my spiritual journey and the process of evaluation that I have undergone during that journey, and how that process might be of help to you the reader, and others that have undergone various types of evolution within their own journey.

Having been away from the Pentecostal movement for 46 years now, I reflect upon the foundation that was given to me by the leaders and how that foundation helped form and shape who I am today as a minister and theologian in the Reformed tradition.  In retrospect, though I no longer subscribe to the strict Pentecostal theology or biblical hermeneutics that I grew up with, I always remain grateful for their emphasis on personal holiness and piety, though I think that their emphasis was in the wrong place as far as these are concerned.  I am also grateful for their strong emphasis on the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of the individual believer, and in the life of the Church.  In the final years of my involvement in the Pentecostal movement, I had already started to move away from the legalistic forms of holiness which they emphasized, which though in their opinion was biblically based, was in reality rooted in skewed hermeneutics.  When I was received into the Reformed Church, I was already in a position to compare and evaluate the Pentecostal emphasis on "individual salvation," with the Reformed emphasis on covenant theology.

When I came to Rochester in 1978 to plant a new Reformed church in the Hispanic community, I encountered the hostility of several Pentecostal pastors who were at times in conflict with each other, but upon my arrival they formed a united front to guard themselves from this "wolf in sheep's clothing."  They knew of my Pentecostal background and formation, and accused me of "selling out," or as they put it in their language, changing my affiliation for "loave and fishes."

How do I, as an ex-Pentecostal relate to my Pentecostal sisters and brothers?  I still have the highest love and respect for them.  On occasion, I have visited and preached at the church in Staten Island that I grew up in.  I have visited and fellowshipped with other Pentecostal churches in Rochester, New York City, and Raleigh, North Carolina.  I have maintained strong friendships with people in Pentecostal churches, including my first pastor, and other friends.

I miss, to a certain extent, the "good ole days" of worship, fasting, and all night long prayer meetings on Friday evenings going into Saturday morning.  I also miss, to a certain extent, the spontaneous forms of worship, with the freedom to praise God without the restrictions of program bulletins and set schedules.  But I also enjoy the formality and structure of the Reformed and other mainline Protestant churches.  I revel in structured worship, knowing that people can know why they worship in a particular manner, and subsequently worship in a more informed manner.  I also appreciate the responsible freedom in the Reformed churches relative to Christian living, having moved away from the well-intended, but misplaced restrictions of the Pentecostal churches

Forty-six years later, I am still struggling with the question of whether I am a Pentecostal with a Reformed mind, or a Reformed Christian with a Pentecostal heart.  In either case, I trust that God will continue to guide my paths.

I now invite you, the reader to share snippets of your journey with us.  Is it similar to mine?  Is it radically different?  At the end of the day, does it really make any difference?  I would love for you to "put yourself out there" and dialogue with us on this issue of spiritual journey and theological evolution.  I think that it would be edifying and uplifting for many of us.  I look forward to hearing from you.

Grace and peace,
Dr. Juan A. Ayala-Carmona

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