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The day I went over the edge
...One of our staff members was leading Friday Praise and Worship. In typical SBC fashion, he didn't see as much response as he wanted, so he came up with something for people to do to get more. He said that he wanted all the real, true Christians to come and stand up front.

Now I am the campus minister and primary preacher at this place for the last almost 12 years. I wouldn't go forward at an invitation like this if there were a hundred dollar bill waiting for me. I refuse to be manipulated in worship by this kind of garbage.

But a couple of hundred kids did go forward, and the rest got lectured and we sang another verse yada yada yada. You've all been there. It ended. I wasn't happy, but what else is new? I can't control the anointed class. God tells them what to say.

That afternoon, I came home a bit late and my lovely daughter, Noel, was sitting on the couch, crying.

I hated today's chapel, she said. I hated being manipulated. I didn't want to go forward because I know it doesn't mean anything. I try to live out my witness in front of other students and not put up a show by going forward all them time, but XXXX made if seem that if I didn't go up, I wasn't a real Christian. She cried some more. What should I have done, dad?

Do you guys see why I write this stuff?

I cannot measure the revulsion I felt at that moment. I raised my daughter from birth to love God and honor the Christ who bought her with his blood. She belongs to him. She's asked questions, but she's never deviated from that path. Yet here she was, in tears, her faith and assurance wrecked, all that I'd taught her in doubt, because some _______ worship leader needed to see some bodies down front so we could all say the Holy Spirit moved and ain't we wonderful....