When we asked Bentley about his unorthodox methods, he assured Charisma that none of the people were hurt and that many were healed. He also explained that British evangelist Smith Wigglesworth, a legend in the hall of fame of Pentecostal preachers, used similar methods.
So if Wigglesworth healed a man by punching him in the stomach, and Bentley sees similar results by using techniques borrowed from World Wrestling Entertainment, does that mean we should teach all altar workers to become more aggressive?
I know that people have been healed in the meetings in Lakeland. I know of a woman from South Carolina who was healed of cystic fibrosis while sitting in one of Bentley’s services. (She was never touched by anyone.) I also know a man from California who was healed of sleep apnea while watching the Lakeland revival on television. Jesus is most definitely still in the healing business.
I also know that Bentley is not performing Hulk Hogan stunts from the stage in Lakeland every night. But because his comments about violent prayer have been so widely broadcast, we need to call a timeout and make it clear that hitting people is wrong, period. Bentley’s teaching on unorthodox prayer methods should include a disclaimer: “DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME.” Here are three reasons why:
1. The Holy Spirit is gentle. Jesus boldly drove the moneychangers out of the temple with a whip. But when He prayed for sick people, there is no record of Him head-banging or leg-dropping anyone. He rebuked evil spirits authoritatively, but He never hit, slapped, choked, mounted or kicked a person. He was meek, which means He knew how to control His strength, and He never threw His weight around.
When He commissioned His followers to heal the sick, Jesus told them to “lay” hands on them (Mark 16:18). Since gentleness is part of the fruit of the Holy Spirit (along with kindness—see Gal. 5:22-23), any ministry we do should be tempered with mercy and concern.
2. If we minister in the flesh, we will reap flesh. Several years ago I was standing near the stage in a large meeting when a visiting evangelist said he wanted to pray for all the ministers in the room. Immediately some ushers yanked me up to the platform and the man of God raced over to “pray” for me. Before I knew it, I was assaulted in the name of the Lord.
Whack! The guy hit me so hard that I fell down and held my face in my hands to hide my grimace. The skin on my neck was stinging. When I finally went back to my seat, a friend ran over to congratulate me, saying, “Wow, I saw you go down under the power!” I had to grit my teeth and ask the Lord to help me forgive the preacher who inflicted pain instead of a holy impartation.
Why do we think that more bodies on the floor equals “more anointing”—especially when the evangelist shoves people to the ground or slaps them silly? To build a ministry on such foolish theatrics is to trust in the arm of the flesh.
3. Somebody’s going to get hurt. We reported last week that a Tennessee man sued his charismatic church because its pastoral staff did not provide the proper “catchers” when he fell down during a prayer meeting last year. Matthew Lincoln of Knoxville said he struck the hard floor of the sanctuary with his head and aggravated a disc problem in his back, resulting in the need for surgery.
I don’t know the specifics of the situation in Knoxville, Tenn., and it may be that this church has done everything possible to provide a caring atmosphere in their meetings. Plus, the man suing the church does not say anyone hit him or knocked him over. But serious accidents are bound to happen if we don’t stress the importance of ministering with gentleness and wisdom.
In our zany charismatic world we often let our zeal run wild. I’ve been in services in which all kinds of injuries happened. Once I watched a 300-pound man fall on a frail woman. I’ve seen heads hit metal chairs. I’ve seen evangelists step on people’s arms and legs. We may say the Holy Spirit is moving, but—more often than we want to admit—our chaos may be a sign of our immaturity.
Please understand me. I desperately want the power of God to invade our churches. I’ve been in meetings in which the Lord’s glory was so thick that no one could stand up. I have felt the weight of His presence fall like a blanket on a congregation. And I remember falling to the floor when I got within four feet of a humble Indian preacher who barely touched people on the forehead when he prayed for them.
We don’t have to force things to happen. God’s power is real. May we never settle for a man-made imitation.
