Since the last person died on whom an apostle had laid his hands, no direct operation of the Holy Spirit has been possible (Acts 8:18). But millions of sincere people do not know that simple Bible fact, and have been led astray. Several denominations rejoice in being "charismatic," a word describing:

In England in 1650 George Fox founded the Society of Friends. The Friends were called "Quakers" by non-members because of "Fox’s admonition to ‘quake’ at the word of the Lord" (Webster). His admonition led sincere people to think that they should shake when they prayed.

Then followed "Shakerism," a religious sect called "Shakers" by non-members because of "movements of a dance constituting a part of their ritual" (Webster).

Over in America in the 18th century the country was much stirred by the "Great Awakening," with the name of Jonathan Edwards (Northhampton, Mass.) being in the forefront. During "the frontier revivals converts were seized with contagious behavior, jerking involuntarily and barking like dogs" (CHRISTIANTY TODAY, 9-11-1995, p. 32). However, on one occasion, when a jerker started his movements, the preacher

Also, in the 18th century, over in England, an Episcopal priest by the name of John Wesley so much wanted to feel the indwelling of the Holy Spirit he began to imagine it. On May 24, 1738, he wrote, "About a quarter before nine ... I felt my heart strangely warmed" {JOHN WESLEY, by Frank Banfield).

This imagination caused Wesley, disappointed with the cold formal ritual of the Episcopal Church, to start the Methodist Church (1739). Supposed inward thrusts of the Holy Spirit caused shouting and jumping in the Methodist churches. A visitor wrote:

But two centuries later the Methodists had become quiet and dignified, much like their Episcopal heritage. The result was that in 1906 in Los Angeles on Azusa Street a group of Methodists started another denomination: the Pentecostal Church. It has grown rapidly, along with the Assemblies of God and the Pentecostal Holiness Church, specializing on an imaginary Holy Spirit baptism, in glossalalia, and in miraculous healings. More than shaking characterized their services: shouting members fell to the floor and rolled, and were called by non-members "Holy Rollers."

Another break away from the Methodists was the Nazarene Church. Said a Nazarene pastor:

In the 1950’s the move toward unrestrained emotionalism in worship services "spread to mainline protestant churches under the name, ‘Neo-Pentecostalism,’" described as a "high voltage religion," an "upsurge of the Spirit." This "upping of the voltage" comes as

This "high voltage" religion was exhibited by "the Kansas City prophets" in 1990. A reporter writes that "I witnessed Christians shaking, jumping, fainting, wailing, prophesying, even laughing," a movement which he discounted as "an enthusiastic, out-of-balance, defensive, earnest, and sincere group of Christians," but "deluded" and "weird" that "will come to nothing" (Michael Maudlin, managing editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY, 9-11-1995, p. 4). He predicted that many who were excited and encouraged by the Kansas City prophets "would become disillusioned, even hurt, later."

"Subsequently," he continued, the Kansas City movement "seems to have gone the way of Gamaliel’s first option": "it will come to nothing" (Acts 5:38). Now, says the editor, "the latest ‘weirdness’" has "migrated from Kansas City and broken out in Toronto." At the Airport Vineyard Church in Toronto are "holy laughter, shaking, animal noises, and falling down" (Ibid., p. 23). "The Toronto Blessing" was called "the top tourist attraction of 1994" by the TORONTO LIFE magazine. Some airlines offer a discount. To handle the crowds, the church moved to a new location. Four thousand people were present for their anniversary celebration (January 20, 1995). Normally, on a typical night, 500 to a 1,000 gather "from every corner of the globe, in the four to five hour worship service."

Critics say the Airport Vineyard Church is "on the road to the occult [belief in hidden forces and powers]" because "of the focus on subjective and chaotic religious experience." The Toronto Blessing "has resulted from the unintended psychological manipulation of gullible and desperate believers" (James A. Beverley, CHRISTIANITY TODAY, 9-11-1995, p. 24). The Airport Vineyard Church is the "target" of John MacArthur’s latest book, RECKLESS FAITH.

On the other hand, "many thousands of Christians" have "been nourished and revived" by "a sense of God’s presence," and they talk of "their marriages being different," and "of ethical changes in their lives" (James A. Beverley, ibid., p. 24). "There are a lot of satisfied customers out there" (John Arnott, senior pastor), with over "5000 decisions for Christ."

A believer says, "If laughter is the best medicine, there is something disturbing in any rush to prove that holy laughter is simply fraudulent." Advocates of holy laughter trace it back "to the 1801 Cane Ridge Revival in Bourbon County, Kentucky," where "believers laughed, jerked, danced, and even barked" (THE OREGONIAN, 10-15-1994).

George Byron Koch, a charismatic pastor from Chicago, after a visit to the Airport Vineyard Church, wrote:

"The prayer techniques I saw," continued Mr. Koch, "have spread worldwide," and in them "are eerie echoes" of "the common practices of the Hindu gurus." For example, Rajnee, the infamous Indian, would touch his followers, who would then convulse in uncontrollable shaking or laughter, or simply pass out. Da Free John, an American guru, would sit with large crowds of his devotees and wave his hand toward groups of them, who would then collapse in ecstatic laughter. These disciples described the after-effects of the phenomena as intense joy and peace. Mr. Koch continued:

Mr. Koch says that those at the Airport Vineyard Church "believe they are able to transmit the Holy Spirit into other people as they choose," and

The "Toronto Blessing" is so divine that its backers say that "It will be better for Sodom and Gomorrah than it will be for" those who denigrate what goes on at the Airport Vineyard Church (James A Beverley, ibid., p. 26).

The "British version" of the "Toronto Blessing" is the Holy Trinity Brompton Church in London. A visitor there reported that "God came over him with such power that he could not move for 40 minutes" (James A. Beverley, ibid., p. 24). A "South African revival leader endorses the Airport Vineyard Church and advises pastors to "lay hands on everything that moves" (ibid.).

However, another charismatic pastor laments that the sermons at Airport Vineyard have no depth: "If you are empty-headed before the Toronto Blessing, you will be empty-headed afterwards" (ibid., p. 26).

"True spirituality" is "obedience to the Spirit," not "spirituality in any guise" (Francis Schaeffer, quoted by James A. Beverley, ibid., p. 27, professor at Ontario Theological Seminary, author of HOLY LAUGHTER AND THE TORONTO BLESSING). Beverly says that people "long for the spectacular" and "crowds love signs and wonders and will often settle for talk about signs and wonders" (ibid., p. 27), and he continues:

And Beverley cites 1 Corinthians 14:40, "Let all things be done fittingly and orderly," as being violated.

Another charismatic preacher thinks the Toronto Blessing is not a blessing, saying that in services where he preaches,

The "frenzied" and "wild and chaotic behavior" at Vineyard Airport is "not the norm for most people most of the time. For example, sometimes "men and women" do

However, one woman "‘fell in the Spirit’ without someone behind her to catch her. She hit her head on a concrete wall and spent a week in the hospital." Professor Beverley asks, "Is this from the Spirit?" (ibid.).

A long ways from Toronto is Portland, Oregon, but on October 7, 1994, among 200 worshipers at the Hope Presbyterian Church, eleven responded to the altar call for the Spirit to make them laugh, with the result that:

The pastor’s wife "crawled on the floor during a hysterical outburst," crying out, "I can’t stand up." Eventually she did manage to sit and grab a microphone, saying, "I see Jesus." She continued,

At that, a fresh round of howls, hoots, and even shrieks erupted from the congregation. "It’s something the world can never give," a worshiper said, as "he high-stepped a dance on the altar, a grin on his face." He said,

At that, the head of a white-haired woman hit the man’s feet with a thud. She had fallen, laughing. One man, his face flushed, had seemingly passed out. He said he was drunk on new wine. "I know what getting drunk is like," he said slowly, slurring his speech. "This is the same thing. The only difference is there is no hangover after it."

One observer philosophied,

Far away from Portland’s Cascade College and the Columbia Christian Schools is David Lipscomb University with its David Lipscomb High School at Nashville, Tennessee. At a recent High School Chapel worship service, David L. Martin, Admissions Director, told the students that, if they loved Jesus, to rub a neighbor’s stomach. Some faculty members were so disgusted they arose and walked out. Is stomach rubbing worship? Is it empowered by the Holy Spirit?