An Ecumenical Crush

Pentecostals and Ecumenism, Part 1: An Ecumenical Crush

The New Pentecostals are those who respect other Christian denominations and traditions and are willing to fellowship, share and cooperate with them.

When I was a child, I remember passing by the other churches in our town with a certain sense of curiosity and pity. There was the giant Cathedral in the middle of town, built when Fort Smith was actually being considered for the capital of the Northwest Territories. It was big and beautiful and purple inside. The community choir held their Christmas concerts there, and I loved singing out into that chilly space. I eyed the stations of the cross, the flickering candles and the statues of Mary with a certain suspicion and sadness however. The Catholics weren’t really saved, after all. Sometimes the grown-ups talked of a “born again” Catholic as if the occurrence was a great anomaly. As a young teenager I remember a particularly heated conversation at youth group with a Catholic friend about not eating red meat on Fridays. I brought out my Bible and a good thumping ensued. I’m not sure she ever came back to our youth group . . .

The Anglican church was farther up the main road, and much smaller than the Catholic church. We went there sometimes for ecumenical services during the week of Christian unity. More often I attended events in their church hall – pancake breakfasts, weekly Girl Guide meetings, and All Saints Eve parties where we dressed up as characters from the Bible. My piano teacher was an Anglican. The Anglicans were a little better than the Catholics. They didn’t worship Mary, after all. Mostly they were just dry and boring. Those ecumenical services were definitely tedious. Up and down, back and forth between papers and books, reading prayers. When we said the creed I purposely left out the word “catholic.” I only believed in one holy apostolic church. And to top it off, they smoked outside the church on Sundays!! Or so I had heard. Dry, boring and definitely carnal.

I think there was a Baptist church that met in some guy’s basement. They had a sign out on the front lawn. I think they were a little odd. I never knew anything more about them.

The Pentecostal church was within walking distance from our house, either by sidewalk or through the baseball diamonds as a shortcut. It was, in my humble opinion, the best church in town, despite its ugly orange carpet (which is still there, by the way). We had tambourines and lively music, and later drums. We had good half hour sermons at least, not those strange and shortened things called homilies. We made up our prayers every Sunday. No candles or rituals or idol worshiping for us. We didn’t just go to church. We had personal relationships with Jesus. Plus, we had the Holy Spirit.

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I am a fourth generation Pentecostal, the daughter of a Pentecostal minister and Bible College teacher. I grew up in the PAOC. I went to a Pentecostal Bible College. I served in Pentecostal churches. So I’m not really sure when my pity turned to something else – genuine interest, respect, and at times a strange longing for stained glass. At some point in the two years between Bible College and enrolling at Wycliffe College for grad studies, I had developed something like a crush on other churches.

Perhaps it was my disillusionment with certain aspects of Pentecostalism. Perhaps it was the sense of sacred space and connection to saints past that I had experienced in chapels and cathedrals alike. Perhaps it was the fact that I had married a Baptist. Whatever the cause, I found myself intrigued. When I went to other services, I actually enjoyed the liturgy. When I spoke with people from other backgrounds, it was like missing pieces of my theology were falling into place, shifting things around and making me look at God and the church in entirely different ways. And I liked it.

I wasn’t sure where the relationship was going. Sure, I had held hands a few times with ecumenism, and we’d gone on several Sunday dates. But could there, should there, ever be anything more? I had been warned about ecumenism. He was something of a bad boy. I had heard whispers about his associations – popery and one world governments and maybe even the antichrist. But there in the glowing candlelight of a stained glass window, I wanted more.


Stay tuned for Part 2.