Deliverance from the Distorted Gospel (guest post by Jamey Thompson)

Untwisting Scriptures #6, Striving, Dying to Self, and Life, is due to be published in December. IIf you join the Book Launch Team (affectionately known as my BLT), you’ll help get the word out to others. Find out more here.

The testimony below is from a friend who has been on a journey toward understanding who God really is. Because she has been in my life for some time now and because I believed her testimony would resonate with others, I asked her to write it for me to publish.

Disconnect

I was born to believing parents, and I lived my life trying to please God, believing that this was the pathway to blessing. Yet, decades later, when I decided to write down what I thought God was like, based on how I had experienced Him, this is what I wrote:

— Harsh
— Exacting
— Oppressive
— Burdensome
— Cannot please
— Tyrant
— Cruel

I would have to walk a long path before I would know God as the Good Shepherd who tenderly cares for his own.

The “Christian life”

At age nine, I saw the film A Thief in the Night, a 1973 movie about what events surrounding the “rapture” might be like.

It terrified me. Afterwards, when I told my mom I didn’t want to go to hell, she prayed with me, and this became my salvation testimony.

When I was eleven, my dad moved our family to a small independent fundamental Bible (IFB) college where he believed God was calling him to learn more about the Bible. We lived on campus, immersed in the strict IFB culture of that school.

In my four years there I believe I heard more preaching than most people will ever hear in their lifetimes. We learned to comply with their many strict rules. Our willing obedience to all these standards and expectations, with “the right heart attitude,” was considered the measure of our spiritual condition.

• Music was to include no drums and no sliding of musical notes.
• Women were to wear skirts or culottes – pants were discouraged and approved only for certain occasions.
• Men had to keep their hair short.
• We weren’t to dance, attend movies, or consume alcohol.
• Men and women were not allowed to swim together.
• We were to serve in ministry and be present for all church services, revival services, conferences, seminars, prayer groups, workshops, teen activities, chapels, and camps with three services a day, along with daily personal devotions.
• Tithes as well as sacrificial giving were required.
• Dating/courting couples (there was much argument about which option was the right one) were required by the school’s strict standards, and these rules were to be followed even during summer and holiday breaks.

We were taught that following all these rules and more would ensure God’s blessing on our lives.

It would take another 25 years for me to understand how the teachings of those 4 years had shaped my life.

Increasing disconnect and confusion

When my dad finished school, we left that IFB college and moved to another small IFB church and school.

At fifteen, I was interested in entertainment and my physical appearance. But even though I didn’t really care about the required activities of the church, I still complied with all that was expected of me because that was what I knew.

This began a disconnect between what I had been taught vs. my personal interests and desires, leading me to doubt my salvation.

During a difficult high school senior year, I became very withdrawn. When I graduated, I was still aware of the spiritual disconnect in my life, but I didn’t know what to do about it and I didn’t want to do anything about it.

My parents believed it would be best for me to attend the same IFB college my dad had attended, so of course I complied.

During my first semester there, I heard a sermon emphasizing the hypocrisy of Judas Iscariot. As I listened, I became convinced that the spiritual disconnect in my life was also caused by personal hypocrisy. I began to shake so much that my friend next to me noticed. I believed this to be conviction of sin. At the invitation, I went forward immediately and prayed with a counselor. Surely now I had become a true Christian.

Soon I was baptized, and I experienced a sense of peace for some time. But I didn’t experience that “life change” that so many speak of after conversion.

At the same time, in the chapel and classes at that college I continued to hear confusing teachings on topics such as God’s will, dating, emotions, music, entertainment, money, ministry, vocation, divorce and remarriage, sanctification, prayer, and more. I didn’t know how to process all this. What standard or conviction would please God in all these areas so He would bless my life? I didn’t know.

What I did know for sure though, was that I needed to be compliant and obey authority willingly.

When some more difficult life experiences came my way, I became overwhelmed, withdrew and shut down again. Surely there was something wrong with me. But at that age, I had no understanding about clinical depression.

Eventually I transferred to a different IFB college that initially felt less oppressive. But that was where I was particularly harmed by teaching regarding emotions. Emotions were bad and untrustworthy, I was told, and the more you set them aside, disregard them, and even cut them off, the more spiritual you will be. Of course I tried to comply.

It took me years to see how pervasive the damage was that this teaching caused in my life.

The spiritual attacks

After graduation, I got my first job in the corporate world and began serving in my local church.

However, the next fifteen years were marked by ever-deepening spiritual darkness and emotional instability and decline, along with circumstantial problems in almost every area of life—all while I was serving in church ministry, striving to meet expectations, and be as obedient as possible.

On my 30th birthday, throughout a weekend trip with my mom and sisters, I was tormented by a voice screaming something horrific in my mind that I could not stop. When the voice finally did stop, I was left confused, drained, and disturbed. I had no understanding of what it was, why it happened, or what eventually made it stop.

Over the next several years, these attacks continued. They grew darker, longer, more intense, and more frequent. In addition, I became increasingly aware of feeling chained, trapped or imprisoned, unable to move forward in my life.

All my fundamentalist training had given me no understanding of spiritual bondage.

The years passed, and the more I fought to be free, the stronger the grip became. Everyone saw me as a good Christian, so how could I tell anyone about this? Even if I did, how would I explain it since it would sound so bizarre to people? I didn’t really understand it myself either, so  I just suffered in silence while still striving to be the best Christian I could be.

But as time went on, I grew more and more desperate for help.

Eight years later, in 2017, after following what I was sure was the Lord’s leading, I had a crash and burn experience. It left me numb and in shock, barely able to process what had happened. And, all the while, I was still undergoing the tormenting attacks.

But God intervened in June 2018 – He brought me to a professional counseling ministry that understood and addressed spiritual warfare. Through the help of two counselors, I began to find freedom from the attacks. Eventually the attacks stopped altogether. I experienced significant improvement and stability through this spiritual warfare counseling.

But somehow, something still felt amiss, something that felt like a root issue.

Then one day I decided to write a few words to describe my Christian experience.

I came up with “guilt,” “torment,” and “confusion” (and later, “conflict”).

Light bulb

In 2019 I discovered the book Boundaries, When to Say Yes, How to Say No to Take Control of Your Life by Cloud and Townsend.

I had never heard of boundaries being applied in a relational context. I had no idea that I could set boundaries with others, particularly my so-called “authorities.”

But as I read that book, I began to realize that many of the teachings in my IFB background were actually boundary violations.

As I finally began to see how I had been affected by the IFB system, buried emotions began to come to the surface. I decided to write a list of IFB teachings and dynamics that had been bothering me for a long time. By the time I had finished compiling my list, I was looking at over 40 ways the IFB system had damaged me.

This brought me face-to-face with my view of God. The words I chose were “harsh,” “exacting,” “oppressive,” “burdensome,” “cannot please,” “tyrant” and even “cruel.”

I knew this was wrong, but I could no longer ignore what I felt.

I started wondering again whether I was truly a converted Christian. It didn’t make sense to me why my life had taken such a dark path spiritually or why my view of God was so terrible if I was genuinely a Christian.

My light bulb moment finally came when talking with my counselor friend again. She said to me,

“Well, what you experienced was really spiritual abuse.”

I was dumbfounded. Spiritual abuse? What was that? The only abuses I knew of were domestic and sexual, and I hadn’t experienced those. I wasn’t abused.

Was I?

But her statement hit me hard.

Learning different

As my conflicting thoughts swirled, I felt prompted to read Matthew 16:13-16, Peter’s confession of Christ: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

When I read that statement, my heart fully resonated with it. There was no confusion and no conflict—which was huge for me.

From then on, I had confidence that my conversion was true and real. I was grateful to have the issue settled.

But in 2022 I ran into a new spiritual challenge. When my church started a program called “Pray and Enjoy,” I decided to participate in praying through specified Bible passages each week. The first passage was Psalm 23, a psalm of peace and joy in the Lord.

I never got past Psalm 23. I read it, read it again, and read it many more times after that. Absolutely nothing about it resonated with me.

I literally felt zero connection to it, no matter how hard I struggled with it.

At the same time, I was grieving the loss of two family members who had died unexpectedly within about a month of each other. But then, a friend I hadn’t heard from in 15 years learned about the two deaths in my family and sent me a card and a book called The Lord is My Shepherd: Resting in the Peace and Power of Psalm 23.

With much upheaval in my life, it took me months to read it, but when I finally did, I realized I didn’t know and had never known Jesus as the Good Shepherd like this book described. Then I read another book called Gentle and Lowly, and once again, I realized I knew nothing of that Jesus—the gentle and lowly Jesus.

While I was trying to figure out who the Scriptures really taught Jesus to be, another friend recommended a set of books called Untwisting Scriptures. I ordered them immediately and began reading.

If I could have articulated my responses to what I learned in the Untwisting Scriptures books, I would have included words like “floored,” “astonishment,” “resonation,” and “validation.” These books put words to so many issues I had been struggling with but did not know how to describe!

Another book that was so eye-opening was The Subtle Power of Spiritual Abuse by Johnson and VanVonderen. I would use the same words to describe my responses to this book as to Untwisting Scriptures!

Life-changing Galatians

Then I discovered that the author of Untwisting Scriptures, Rebecca Davis, lived in the same town as I did. I reached out to her, and that conversation led to further discussions. Eventually Rebecca invited me to a Bible study with her and her husband in their home, and we began studying Galatians.

I have to admit, I wouldn’t have chosen to start with Galatians. I believed it wouldn’t be pertinent to where I was spiritually.

I was SO wrong about that!

In early May 2023, while reflecting on my salvation and how the Lord was leading me to peace, I realized my past spiritual experience lacked any real connection with Jesus as a person. While reading Galatians, I particularly noticed the phrase “him who called you.” Although I had seen the word “calling” in the Bible many times—and had heard plenty of sermons about it—it had never felt personal.

I said to the Lord, “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you call me.”

Then I recalled Peter’s response to “Who do you say I am?” in Matthew 16, and I remembered how my heart had resonated with his words, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Next, I heard this question in my heart: “Who asked Peter this question?”

I answered, “Jesus did.”

Then I heard another question in my heart: “Who do you think asked you?” I instantly knew: Jesus did.

He had been calling me all along, cutting through my conflict and confusion to reveal that He is the true bedrock foundation of my faith.

We finished our study of Galatians in the spring of 2024. Whenever I think about how that book impacted me, I still marvel.

Through his description of the “Judaizers” in Galatians, Paul gave me a full description of the problem I had experienced throughout my spiritual past: legalism.

I had heard the term “legalism” countless times but never thought it applied to me. I had been taught that legalism is the belief that salvation is based at least partly on works. But that’s not what Paul was teaching in Galatians. Paul addressed his teachings in Galatians to believers—people who were already truly saved by faith. Yet, they had distorted the gospel. They had become “Judaizers,” or legalists.

What is this “distorted” gospel?

It is a gospel that begins with faith and the Spirit but then reverts to the flesh and the works of the law (rule-keeping) for Christian living and growth.

The end of chapter 2 reinforces that justification is by faith. By the beginning of chapter 3, Paul’s consternation is evident:

“O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?… Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by the hearing of faith?… Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh?”

A believer is saved through faith and is perfected (i.e., “sanctified”) through faith and the power of the Spirit—nothing else.

Throughout the epistle, Paul contrasts faith with the works of the law, stating that “works of the law” (rule-keeping) lead to bondage and slavery. He had some strong language against those who tried to convince those Galatian believers otherwise.

The Good Shepherd

I’m so thankful my horrible view of God is changing. I can see his faithfulness in bringing me out of legalism and showing me that what I experienced was not true Christianity. The Good Shepherd came to find me in that terrible darkness and carry me out of it.

Psalm 23 now resonates with me, beginning with the very first line:
“The Lord is my shepherd.”

My spiritual life is still a work in progress, but the darkness that once dominated my life no longer has the grip it once did. God has changed the direction of my life, bringing me much-needed healing and stability.

I’m glad to say now that my focus is seeking to understand God’s love for me.

I pray that others who have been harmed by the false teachings of legalism will find the freedom and healing that the true Good Shepherd gives.

Christ the Shepherd, available at https://www.etsy.com/listing/1421769650/christ-the-shepherd-jesus-and-lamb-jesus