After having visited several churches on Kauai I can plainly say that Satan has a stronghold grip on this island.
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The accepted, open practice of idolatry is common, and very subtle. No where else in the world do Christians tolerate and even participate with the god’s of nature as they do in the Hawaiian Islands.
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The charm of Hawaiian style worship with torches, calm music and worshipful dance are offered to a variety of god’s. We think of India or Indonesia as having many false god’s, but compared to the ratio of god’s per person, I would venture to say that the Hawaiian Islands have them beat by a long shot.
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They have earth blessings from the gods of nature; the god of the sun and the god of the moon, rain god’s and rainbow god’s. Everything that is beautiful and plentiful is thought to come from the god’s, the ocean and the waves, warm sunshine and sunsets, seafood, coconuts, bananas, you name it and they have a god for it. The praise all goes to the god’s.
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On Kauai, the principalities and powers of spiritual wickedness are like having Halloween all year long with a different mask.
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Aside from the blatant worship of false god’s, most of the churches seem to have some little detail that flavors their own unique brand of religion. They all seem preoccupied with polishing there own golden image of why they are so exclusive. One church had strict dress code issues and said that I needed long pants to enter their sanctuary; another stressed that Saturday was the day of worship. Each time that our conversation revealed that I was not in compliance with their specialty, I felt instantly dropped; politely dropped, but nevertheless completely and in a moments time, precisely dropped. Good fellowship became nominal at best, when they started in talking about whatever their golden calf happened to be.
After attending a very strange church service, I was pleasantly asked by one of the elders if I had been baptized in the name of Jesus. I said, “Oh yes”, and he smiled with enthusiasm, giving me the right hand of fellowship. Then I remembered the words of my pastor Lonnie Frisbee saying, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” I never really thought about “how” I was baptized. I, unsuspecting of his religious flair, said “Come to think of it, my pastor baptized me in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” It was as if this elders firm hand shake went to a weak dead fish hand shake when he found out how I was baptized. The fellowship was broken, and I was dropped.
I am beginning to learn why the Lord sent me to the outskirts of the body of Christ, the hem of His garment. Main stream Christianity flows inward to themselves and becomes stagnant. They murky up the water. The rivers of living water that Jesus spoke of flow out of the church and remain crystal clear. That is when the signs and wonders and miracles become unrestricted and people get healed. The river of God has many tributaries that lead out of the main stream into remote places. God calls them “The Outskirts of the Body of Christ.” The authority is in the hem.
Pastor Tilson Shumate
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On Kauai, the principalities and powers of spiritual wickedness are like having Halloween all year long with a different mask.
*
Aside from the blatant worship of false god’s, most of the churches seem to have some little detail that flavors their own unique brand of religion. They all seem preoccupied with polishing there own golden image of why they are so exclusive. One church had strict dress code issues and said that I needed long pants to enter their sanctuary; another stressed that Saturday was the day of worship. Each time that our conversation revealed that I was not in compliance with their specialty, I felt instantly dropped; politely dropped, but nevertheless completely and in a moments time, precisely dropped. Good fellowship became nominal at best, when they started in talking about whatever their golden calf happened to be.
After attending a very strange church service, I was pleasantly asked by one of the elders if I had been baptized in the name of Jesus. I said, “Oh yes”, and he smiled with enthusiasm, giving me the right hand of fellowship. Then I remembered the words of my pastor Lonnie Frisbee saying, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” I never really thought about “how” I was baptized. I, unsuspecting of his religious flair, said “Come to think of it, my pastor baptized me in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” It was as if this elders firm hand shake went to a weak dead fish hand shake when he found out how I was baptized. The fellowship was broken, and I was dropped.
I am beginning to learn why the Lord sent me to the outskirts of the body of Christ, the hem of His garment. Main stream Christianity flows inward to themselves and becomes stagnant. They murky up the water. The rivers of living water that Jesus spoke of flow out of the church and remain crystal clear. That is when the signs and wonders and miracles become unrestricted and people get healed. The river of God has many tributaries that lead out of the main stream into remote places. God calls them “The Outskirts of the Body of Christ.” The authority is in the hem.
Pastor Tilson Shumate
