Is Your Church Guilty of this Sin Against the LORD?

If it is, shame on your church, and shame on you for subsidizing and supporting it.

A place to help people to find understanding why church tradition and experience is often quite different from the simplicity of the New Testament. Is the phrase “go to church” ever stated in scripture? What about Titles and building-centered assembly? What is a 501c3 church? These are examples of practices needing examination and we hope will provoke thought and prayer among those the Lord is stirring and calling to a deeper consecration, and we want to encourage you to “hear ye HIM”.

The 501c3 Church is Not The Church

Is your church a government registered, non-profit 501c3 organization?
 
If you do not know what this means, please google “501c3 church” and find out.

  
What is amazing is the fact there is absolutely no need for a church assembly to register as a 501c3 corporation!  


There was Constitutional protection for churches for nearly 200 years and churches were just fine.  But in 1954 Lyndon Johnson pushed through the 501c3 law and churchesvolunteer for this snare to get tax benefits and deductions.  


Should we exchange our “giving in secret” for the benefit of a tax write off?


501c3 enrollment is OPTIONAL  and the supposed “benefit” of tax deducting and “legal protection from lawsuits” is but another way for the government to track and monitor you.


Some Biblical History might help us choose.
At the time of Christ, circa 30 A.D., there was agreement between the leaders of religious Israel and the government too. In fact, the Jewish religious system and leadership over God’s people were threatened by the Word and ministry of Jesus.



 Because they too were in agreement with the government of Rome  (whose symbol was (coincidently?) also the eagle), they feared the loss of their status, position, and authority.  

Notice what the religious leadership said:
John 11:48 If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him: and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.





Because the religious leaders of Israel were corrupted by the love of money, position, and status, they sought to preserve the system from which they benefited.



Does this sound familiar? It should. The present system of “giving” in the church as  we know it benefits the modern clergy just as it did in Jesus’ time.
Jesus referred to paid  “hierlings”, and rightly so. 


The 501c3 church is in an un-necessary agreement, a marriage, a union, a contract, an “unequal yoke” with the state for financial benefit and state recognition.
As it was in Jesus’ time, the clergy and most “ministries” benefit most from the financial system imposed on God’s people. 


This agreement by law, conforms the church to IRS corporate law and requires the creation of:

  •  unscriptural church boards
  •  an unscriptural CEO (usually the pastor)
  •  unscriptural membership enrollment unscriptural recording of one’s giving for tax reporting
  •  and unscriptural submission to governmental regulation of what may or may not be taught  in the church assembly.
501c3 legal notes:1.”A corporation is a creature of the state… ” Its rights to act as a corporation are only preserved to it so long as it obeys the laws of its creation…” (Hale v. Henkel, 201 U.S. 43)2.”[A corporation is] an artificial person or legal entity created by or under the authority of the laws of a state.” Black’s Law Dictionary West Publishing Company, 1991; 6th Edition, page 3403. “A corporation derives its existence and all of its powers from the State and,therefore, has only such powers as the State has conferred upon it.

4. … the source of this power is the charter and the statute under which the corporation was organized.” Len Young Smith and G. Gale Roberson, Smith and Roberson’s Business Law, West Publishing Company, 1966, page 796

Romans 12:2New English Translation (NET Bible) Do not be conformed to this present world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may test and approve what is the will of God—what is good and well-pleasing and perfect.

As we conformed by agreement to 501c3 law, we volunteered to permit the state to have lawful authority over the churches.

By the way, the eagle is a symbol for a “beast” which is the nature of the unregenerate man, not the nature of the Spiritual man who is not of this world and is born again from above. In fact, Jesus spoke of his followers as having the nature of the dove, not that of the patriotic eagle.

Matthew 10:16 Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.  



Who are the wolves?


The scriptures tell us they are hierlings, leaders of God’s people that take authority, position, and their living from those under them.

The wolves have willingly become yoked to a worldly kingdom of rulers who are run by their spiritual head, i.e. satan.


Romans 13:1 Let every soul be in subjection to the higher powers: for there is no power but of God; and the powers that be are ordained of God.

 2) Therefore he that resisteth the power, withstandeth the ordinance of God: and they that withstand shall receive to themselves judgment.
 
We are non-political and do not believe in political salvation by ballot box or any political party. God will use evil people in politics to bring His people to their cross as He has done with His people over and over starting in Genesis.
The 501c3 is a physical-and lawful agreement that brings the “leaven of Herod” all the way to the pulpit.
It also turns a church into a non-profit business.
 
Under the guise of having the benefit of donations, tithes, and offerings being tax-deductible, churches have been snared by the government into a union with a satanically ruled system.
Most churches have become a denominational franchise, a family-run business, or a “non-profit corporation“.
Forgive my blunt assessment, but we will gladly and cheerfully give in secret and our Heavenly Father is far greater a rewarder than a tax write off.
Actions to take:1. Ask the Lord about the ideas and scriptures in this writing. IF you are persuaded,2.  Find out if your church-denomination or organization is a 501c3 corporation.
3. Renounce and disavow all unscriptural  legal “membership” (yokes) from churches and man-made organizations.
4. Ask the Lord where He would have you give and to whom apart from the manipulation and scripture perversions from people that personally benefit from the offering plate.
5. As God leads, you may need to repent and withdraw from an anti-christ beast system that has taken the church into captivity.
6. Be prepared for leaders who are part of the system to “explain” and justify these ungodly practices in an attempt to persuade you to stay.
7.  You can withdraw “membership” without leaving your assembly as it is the “system” we are departing from, not the church which is the spiritual body of Christ.

https://spiritualabusesanctuary.wordpress.com/2016/08/23/dangers-of-the-501c3-tax-exempt-church-status/

Forget The Church, Seek Jesus

My Dreams and Visions

I know that the title of this blog entry sounds weird but bear with me for a moment while I post the vision the Lord gave me 01/27/2013.  In the vision I saw people coming out of churches with books in their hands. The people were from many churches and the books that they were carrying represented the doctrine of their particular denomination. As they came out of their various denominations, the left the books at the church that they were leaving. Then I saw people gathering together from all these different denominations and begin to seek Jesus. Just Jesus and no one or nothing else, Just Jesus.

If you look at the Gospel of John it says the following:

I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one– I in them and you in me–so that they may be…

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My Experiences With Sleep Paralysis Demonic Attacks And The Spiritual War We Are All In

If you’ve ever had this happen even one time, you will never forget it. I had, once. One way or another, there’s a reason for everything. In this case, a woman who was actually a witch started coming to the church I was going to. Very telling this woman happened to be a “friend” of the pastor. This woman singled me out to be the object of her special hatred: I could just see it from her eyes. No one called her out. I believe now this woman was using word curses against me. Then, one night as I was fast asleep…I woke up, groggy, but aware of an evil, sinister presense hovering over me, that was seeming to try to settle down on me. Very sleepy, I began to speak in my spiritual language, (tongues), and then drifted back to sleep. The next thing I knew, I was awakened again by this entity….I can only describe this as the most evil, malevolent presence I have ever experienced before or after. This time, I jumped up out of bed, fully awake, and pretty angry and in full spiritual warfare mode…speaking strongly in tongues and rebuking the enemy. I knew this thing was from Satan, but wasn’t sure why or what it’s agenda was other than to kill me. Afterwards, I have thought this witch was the cause and origin of sending it to hurt of kill me. Do I know for sure that a demon would have had the power to kill me? I believe it could happen if a person was not a strong Christian and living in some besetting sin. Bottom-line, Christians need to stop being in denial about spiritual realities. Many people like to make a joke about such things and slough them off as if they didn’t exist. They do exist. The Lord Jesus said so. He had to deal with them…He gave us the power to deal with them and He expects it of us. If we don’t, we can then expect to be harassed by the powers of darkness in one way or another.

Deliverance From Demons In Jesus' Name


Many of you reading this probably have experienced it at least once in your lifetime or know someone who has experienced it. You wake up suddenly from sleep and you try to move but can’t no matter how much you exert yourself. You may manage to slightly move your toes or some other body part but it is a struggle and you still can’t move your body. During an episode you may perceive an evil, malicious presence. You may feel utter dread. You may also have actually seen a shadow person or a shadow person with a hat or some other evil, demonic looking entity. You may have experienced some entity sitting on your chest or had an episode accompanied by an entity doing sexual things to your body. Some people have reported having someone’s hands over their neck choking them. Some have had heard mocking laughter.

Kendall_Jenner’s_Sleep_Paralysis_Is_Actually_Pretty_Common___The_Huffington_Post_🔊.pngLately, it has received…

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How Voice of the Martyrs Funded Abuse of Nigerian Orphans

While the donation money keeps rolling in….Voice of the Martyrs continues begging for more….and meanwhile has done nothing about this scandal. It’s past time VOM donors and supporters demand complete accountability across the board in the VOM organization. Watch the video and see for yourself what has been going on behind the scenes in Nigeria.

VOM supporters and donors….it’s your obligation to be good stewards of the money and support you give in behalf of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

 

God’s Word Is Real Medicine

Healing From Jesus

We originally posted this article a year ago. But because this site has  hundreds of new viewers now, and since so often viewers do not go back to previous years to read posts, we decided we should post it once more. This particular lesson is one of the most important lessons on the “Healing From Jesus” site, and we want to give the Lord every opportunity to reach people with its truth.

Exif JPEG“The Word As Medicine”
(Excerpted from Chapter Four of Healing Is For You!  by Sandra Conner)

Proverbs 4:20-22 says:

My son, give attention to my words; incline thine ear unto my sayings. Let them not depart from thine eyes; keep them in the midst of thine heart. For they are life to those who find them and health to their whole body.”

And Psalm 107:20 says, “He sent His Word and healed them.”

The truth contained…

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Susan Lynch: Friendship and Faith

Sisters in Christ

We all have that one friend. He or she is full of advice, they have the answer to everything we are going through, and most of the time they lead us straight into oncoming traffic. You know exactly which friend I’m talking about. Almost every conversation you have with them ends with “Just follow your heart, it will never steer you wrong.”
Image result for heart
Jeremiah 17:9 – “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” Well, speaking from personal experience I have to tell you that my heart has led me down way too many wrong paths and far too few Godly paths over my 37 years. Our hearts may want to do the right thing, but more often than not they get side-tracked with our own emotions and lose sight of what God intended them to do. The truth of the matter is that our heart…

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“Deliver me from Evil”..escape from a living hell

ALLOMA GILBERT

“In April 2007, foster mother Eunice Spry was sentenced to 14 years in prison for abusing children in her care. She beat the youngsters with metal bars and made them eat vomit. On Saturday, in our first extract from a new memoir, one of Spry’s victims, ALLOMA GILBERT, revealed how she survived her ordeal. Here, in the final part, she describes how Spry allowed her to be sexually abused – and the bitter-sweet moment her tormentor was brought to justice…

My foster mother was incandescent with rage. “What’s this?” she barked, holding up a bag of porridge oats. I knew better than to say “a bag of porridge oats” – that would certainly have earned me a beating, or worse. There was obviously something seriously wrong.

“You left it out,” continued Eunice accusingly, tipping the bag’s contents on to the kitchen table. I could see that mixed in with the oats were little brown lumps – mouse or even rat droppings.

There had, I knew, been some rats recently around the dilapidated old farm where we lived, and I dare say she was right that I had forgotten to put the bag away the day before.

Eunice said nothing more, but scraped up the oats and put them into a saucepan, droppings and all. She then poured in some water, and stirred.

“I’ll make your breakfast for you,” she said.

When the concoction was cooked, she spooned a large, steaming helping into a bowl. It was a far bigger portion than she would usually allow me for breakfast – Eunice was unbelievably mean with food.

She handed me a spoon. “Eat it,” she commanded.

When I didn’t move, Eunice pushed the spoon into the bowl and brought it up against my closed lips. “Open wide.”

It was pointless to resist. Obediently, I opened my mouth and swallowed the vile mixture. It tasted like the soles of my Wellingtons after I’d cleaned out the chicken shed.

My gorge rose and I could see a glint in Eunice’s eyes – her satisfaction would be complete if I threw up there and then.

But I didn’t. Instead, I fought to turn myself off at the emotional mains and ate the whole lot.

I could tell Eunice was waiting for me to give up so that she could give me a beating, but I was determined to show her what I was made of.

She was obviously disappointed. “Well, you do that again and you’ll get it again,” she said.

By now my stomach was churning. I have to hold it down now, I told myself. Just blank yourself out.

Eunice started tidying up and I feigned as much nonchalance as I could muster. I could feel my gorge rising again, but I swallowed hard as saliva filled my mouth and kept my face as blank as I could. Slowly, I moved towards the kitchen door.

The second I was out of Eunice’s sight, I ran like the clappers down the field, where I threw up the entire contents of my poisoned stomach.

But I hadn’t given her the satisfaction of seeing it. And most important of all, I had chalked one up to me in our battle of wills.

Alloma Gilbert

If my childhood with my foster mother Eunice Spry had been traumatic – as I described in this paper on Saturday – my young womanhood, before I finally escaped from her evil clutches at 17, was quite appalling in its physical and psychological brutality.

At least when I was young I had been to school for part of the time, having contact with other adults and children.

I had even very occasionally seen my natural parents. Now I was being taught at home and living as a virtual prisoner, half-starved, on a rundown farm in the middle of nowhere.

I also hadn’t had any contact with my family for years.

I still wonder whether Eunice used to lie in bed at night thinking of the next horrible thing she would do to us all. Certainly, some of her punishments involved a good deal of ingenuity on her part.

One of her favourites was a torture she’d devised, known as the “invisible chair”.

We had to crouch down on our haunches in a sitting position, with our backs or shoulders leaning against the wall, sort of squatting, and we’d have to stay there for ten minutes to an hour, maybe even two.

I found it incredibly difficult to stay upright, and my legs ached terribly, so I’d often fall over.

But Eunice would watch and hit me with a stick, or shout that I had to get back into the upright, crouching position in the invisible chair and stay there until she was satisfied.

Later, when I got a bit older, the punishments changed slightly to cause me the maximum psychological and physical discomfort.

Eunice would sometimes, for example, make me stand naked at the end of her bed – something I found hideously embarrassing, as I was extremely self-conscious about my developing body.

If she fell asleep I’d quickly cover myself up, or lie down on the floor. But then she’d wake up again and shake me or shout at me, and I had to spring back to my standing position. Naked again, all night long.

Eunice’s attitude to nakedness and sex was somewhat ambivalent, and made life very confusing for us as growing teenagers.

On the one hand she would say it was natural and fine for us children to be naked, but at the same time she was also very prudish about anything to do with sex or sexuality, perhaps because of her strict interpretation of her Jehovah’s Witness faith.

During those years of puberty she certainly gave us no sex education or guidance to prepare us for the adult world, and because we never mixed with other young people, we were completely ignorant of the most basic facts of life.

As a result, I was completely unprepared for a catalogue of sexual abuse I suffered over a period of many years at the hands of one of Eunice’s old friends, a man I shall call Kevin.

I don’t know where Eunice knew him from but he was quite a rough type who seemed very interested in my developing body.

Whenever he came to visit, he would make me sit on his lap while he put his arms round me. Then he would put his hands on my legs and move them up my thighs.

One day, he put his hands on my crotch. “You know, you’re a very attractive girl,” he said in a leering voice, which completely freaked me out. I had no idea what was going on.

Another time, Kevin sat me on his lap and told me to touch his trousers in the crotch area. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll give you a quid if you touch it.”

By “it” I sort of guessed he meant his penis, as I knew men were different.

I was utterly confused and didn’t feel right about what was going on between us but I suppose, on some strange level, Kevin provided me with human contact, some kind of touch and warped affection – so starved was I of love and attention after years and years with Eunice.

Later, when I was around 16, Eunice even seemed to want to encourage Kevin’s behaviour towards me, telling me how much he liked me, as if she were matchmaking.

On one occasion, when we went on a holiday with him, she even made us share a room together, albeit with one of the other children.

I protested, but even then Kevin continued to molest me and indulge in gross indecency in my presence.

I spent literally years trying to convince him that I wasn’t interested. When I finally succeeded, he became extremely aggressive and unpleasant.

Compared with all this, something else that Eunice made us do was probably quite benign, although it still makes my stomach churn when I think about it.

She used to make us give her a massage, as though we were her young slaves.

She would lie on the floor or on a sofa and read a women’s magazine and we would have to massage her feet and her back.

It was revolting to have to touch and give pleasure to this woman who hurt us so much.

Also, I found her physically disgusting, and as I was being told to pick the dead skin off her flat feet, or massage her bony shoulders, I would look with fascination at her saggy boobs hanging around her armpits, or her dry wrinkly skin.

Afterwards, we would laugh about it together and mimic her, although very quietly. It was one of the few times we were united against her.

I’ve never really been sure why Eunice took on children after her own two daughters had grown up, but I’m convinced that part of the reason was that she saw us as a financial meal ticket.

The allowances she was paid for looking after us gave her a good source of income – although she was always after more.

For example, she worked out that if she had us registered as disabled for some reason, she would get more money.

So at different times during our childhoods Eunice campaigned to get me diagnosed as being on the autistic spectrum.

She would be eligible for disability carer’s allowance for each child, if she succeeded.

So it was only a matter of time before Eunice decided, when I was about 12, that I was a suitable candidate for some “treatment” and I was taken to see a psychologist.

Before I went into the room to meet the doctor, Eunice primed me on how I was to behave, on pain of punishment if I didn’t.

I had to pose as if I had Asperger syndrome. She had done her research carefully and explained I had to be very inarticulate and shut down.

I had to say absolutely nothing if I was spoken to, and not reply if I was asked a question directly. I had to keep my head down, look at the floor and she would do all the talking.

On this occasion, however, the psychologist smelled a rat. For some reason, and I don’t know why, the psychologist did not buy into the Asperger’s stunt and sent us home without a prescription.

As I left her office, she said: “I think you’re playing games with me.” I wanted to burst out laughing.

Eunice was, of course, utterly furious and told me I would be dealt with the minute we got back to the farm.

Once home, and after a thorough beating, Eunice decided to see for herself if I had Asperger or not, and gave me some of the other children’s prescriptions of Ritalin for a week.

From an adult perspective, and as a mother myself now, I believe it was not only incredibly dangerous to give me drugs prescribed for somebody else but also evil and utterly irresponsible because, in doing so, Eunice set me off in a direction which, until then, I didn’t know existed.

I got hooked on the drugs – they brought me complete psychological relief from all the isolation, fear and pain that I was experiencing.

Every day I helped myself to her supply, taking around ten or 12 tablets. Later, I’d be taking 14 or 16.

Eunice had hoarded so many pills – I guess she kept getting repeat prescriptions – that she didn’t notice her stash was going down. So I continued to take Ritalin for a long time, probably three years or more.

I have mentioned that we were badly and erratically fed, and as a result were all extremely thin.

Eunice noticed, however, that by the time I was in my teens I enjoyed the fact that I had a slim figure – it made me feel as though I might be attractive.

Since happiness was not allowed, now that I wanted to be thin, she decided maliciously that she had to do something about it.

Eunice had a new eating plan: I was to eat lard. A whole pound before every meal. “You need fattening up,” she’d say.

I had really never eaten anything so revolting in all my life. Even the rat-poo porridge was not as bad as having to fill my mouth and my system with this stinking, oily, piggy-smelling gunge.

To this day, the smell of sausages cooking still turns my stomach.

By the time I was nearly 17, I had been enduring Eunice’s hideous regime for a decade and, very gradually, it was beginning to dawn on me that I might be able to make my own way in the world.

I used to take our dog for long walks, which gave me a real taste of freedom. These stolen moments without being watched helped a new idea crystallise in my mind – scary, but also exciting.

I had reached an emotional and psychological crossroads.

I started to drop enormous hints to Eunice, and she must have got sick of my nagging, because one day she suddenly said: “You’ll be leaving tomorrow, so you’d better get yourself sorted. Be ready by nine in the morning – I’ll drive you.”

Without even saying goodbye to the others the next morning, I clambered into the car, wondering where my destiny lay.

“I’m taking you to Bristol,” Eunice piped up suddenly.

Bristol? I knew nothing about Bristol. Why there?

“You’ll be in a youth hostel. I’ll pay your rent for a month.”

Perhaps she hoped that by taking me to a huge city she could ensure I didn’t meet anybody I knew and spill the beans, or maybe she thought I’d be unable to survive and come crawling home again.

Either way, what she did that day when she walked away from the youth hostel was effectively to abandon me.

I had no knowledge of how to survive on my own, no funds, no phone, no list of people to turn to if I needed help. I had nothing.

The months that followed my release from Eunice could be described as the very steepest of learning curves.

With the help of a charity for homeless people, I found accommodation in various hostels around the city and learned how to apply for both benefits and employment.

Off the leash at last, I caught up on my lost youth in what I now call my “wild time”.

I tried drink and drugs of various kinds and discovered for the first time in my life my ability to attract men of my own sort of age.

This was not a positive experience. I was, I believe, the victim of an attempted date rape, and I had several other fleeting and unsatisfactory sexual encounters.

By the time I was 18, I was pregnant by a man I’d met while working in McDonald’s.

The relationship was never going to last more than a few months, and so I became a single mother, living alone with my baby girl in council accommodation at the age of just 19.

It was very difficult at first. I had no idea what to do, and although I was still with my baby’s father, he was unsupportive.

Perhaps because I was having such a tough time, one day in August 2004, when my daughter, Ivy, was three months old, I finally decided it was time to track down my parents, which I did by writing to every address in the road where they used to live to see if anybody knew where they’d gone.

Our first meeting was very emotional and a bit awkward at the same time. There was so much to catch up on, and I didn’t quite know how much to tell them about what had happened.

They seemed genuinely delighted with their granddaughter, though – my mum kept crying and hugging her and my dad looked pleased as punch.

He told me on later visits that my mother couldn’t sleep at night for feeling so bad about what had happened to me during all the years we were estranged.

Soon after I re-established contact with my parents I received a huge package from them. In it were masses of cards: they had gone out and bought a card for every birthday and Christmas that they had missed with me (to replace all those that they knew Eunice was binning), as a way of saying sorry.

Both of my parents had written little notes in the birthday cards, saying things like, ‘Happy Birthday, Bright Eyes’, marking special events like my eighteenth birthday.

They still feel sad that they have missed so much of my life.

After my disastrous relationships, I was in no hurry to start another one. But I had begun chatting to somebody on the internet who had become a virtual “friend”.

He was very helpful and supportive through difficulties, and eventually we decided to meet.

The attraction was mutual, and we have now been an item for a year. His name is Sy and he works as a drugs counsellor in Bristol.

He is so thoughtful and kind that I finally told him a bit about life with Eunice – as much as I could bear to talk about – and he was horrified. And when the ghosts of my past came back to haunt me, Sy was there to support me.

The fact that Eunice was brought to trial is down to the bravery of Sarah, who after years of torment eventually confided in members of Eunice’s Jehovah’s Witness congregation, who encouraged her to go to the police.

Quite rightly, they didn’t want people to think that their religion would ever condone such behaviour.

When the police contacted me to ask if I was happy to make a statement to support Sarah’s case, I said I was. Of course I was.

However, I don’t think the police, or anyone else for that matter, knew what a can of worms they were opening. Or more like an ocean full of poisonous snakes.

Eunice was arrested in February 2005, although it took two years before she came to trial.

On March 20, 2007, as I was sitting watching Ivy playing with her toys, the phone rang. “We’ve got a conviction.”

The detective constable sounded ecstatic in my ear. “She’s been found guilty of 26 counts including child cruelty, unlawful wounding and assault.”

A month later, Eunice was sentenced to 14 years in prison. She’ll be 72 by the time she gets out and Ivy will be 17 – the same age I was when Eunice abandoned me in Bristol.

Now, when I have nightmares about life at the farm, Sy is by my side. He is a wise, kind man who protects me and makes me feel like I am a good person and worth something.

He is wonderful with Ivy, and we are slowly growing into a family. A loving, caring, normal family, which is all I ever wanted. I don’t know what the future will bring but I am hopeful that we will spend it together.

Adapted from DELIVER ME FROM EVIL by Alloma Gilbert, to be published by Pan on March 7 at £6.99. ° Alloma Gilbert