HOOD HOLINESS

BY REV. JENEE NORIEGA YARBROUGH

What good can come out of the warzone in Albuquerque, New Mexico? I lived my whole life in the inner city—a kaleidoscope of South Central Los Angeles, California; Atlanta, Georgia; El Paso, Texas; and Albuquerque, New Mexico. Living in the hood was a lifestyle—from the food and music to the sirens and gunshots. A life of pure survival.

My mom is full-blooded Laguna Indian and was left by her parents as a baby in an abandoned house on the reservation. She ran away at the age of 13 years old and had me when she was 15. My mom was an alcoholic by that time, and I was born a sick baby. My dad was 16 years old and very abusive to her. Both of my parents abandoned me at two months old.

My grandmother raised me (my dad’s mom); we were poor and lived in an area in Albuquerque called the “warzone.” It was a community of poverty, single parents, drugs, and alcohol. I started getting molested at the age of five years old. By the time I was 13, three different family members were sexually molesting me—two of which were women.

I remember I was so excited when I finally got to meet my dad for the first time at ten years old. He came from California, was a Jehovah’s Witness, and played lead guitar like a pro. He took me and two of my cousins to my first concert ever—Iron Maiden. I remember that night vividly. The smell of weed as a fog of marijuana smoke hung in the air, wild fans headbanging in the mosh pit, the adrenaline rush of intense music pulsing in my chest, the crowd parroting each word at the top of their lungs, flames spewing up from the stage as the band jammed out. I absorbed every moment of that electric night.

After the concert, my dad took my cousin Karen and me back to my grandmother’s little apartment in the hood. There was a pallet made on the living room floor for all three of us; Karen laid in the middle, and I laid on my side facing the wall heater. The magical memories of that concert brought the heater’s flames to life, reminding me of the thrill that accompanied each burst of flames on the stage. With a swoosh sound every few seconds, the hot glow would intensify and then dim like a dragon’s breath.

The heater was not the only sound I heard that night. As I lay quietly watching the fire lick the walls of its restrained domain, crocodile tears slid down the contours of my cherub face. I wanted to escape the nightmare that was happening behind me, but I was too afraid to move. The following morning there was no shame, apologies, nor promises—except my promise to Karen that I would not tell anyone about the violated trust and trauma we experienced. Secrets stayed in the family, no matter how vile. This man I waited to meet for so long… tried to have sex with my cousin Karen in front of me. Betrayal tends to lead to even more brokenness, so my life turned in the wrong direction, as a spirit of rebellion reared its ugly head. I started hanging out with the neighborhood kids. When my grandma called for me to go inside, I ignored her and started running away from home. The group that seemed to care about me, accept me, and include me were the local thugs, dope dealers, prostitutes, and gangsters. It was not much longer before I met a young man. He was a little bit older but made promises of love and took me under his care. Every girl needs to feel beautiful, cherished, and loved. He made promises that my heart longed to hear and I thought would fill this emptiness inside. He invited me into his motel room on the main street in Albuquerque. He had this whole concoction laid out on the motel table and said, “Jenee, if you love me, try this.” He said all I had to do was inhale as he lit it. It seemed like such an easy request. I needed to keep up my tough and fearless façade, but I secretly would have traded my soul to feel wanted and loved. This was my first hit of crack cocaine at the age of 11, and a long journey of destructive choices and overwhelming darkness was about to begin.

I started stealing, selling dope, jacking cars, and living on the streets. I was on New Mexico’s Most Wanted at the age of 16 years old. I saw my cousin shot dead after I was hit in the head with a gun. At the age of 19, I was facing a sentence of 10-to-life after being arrested by the FBI. I ended up doing state time for attempted murder that was then dropped down to an aggravated battery charge with great bodily harm. Once released, I was a menace to society again and even began to break the street codes that I was once loyal to.

I started crying out to God: “Where are you? Are you real? Do you hear me?”

I pulled into the handicap parking space at the local Walmart. With me was my three-year-old daughter, the twelveyear-old babysitter, a twelve-pack of beer, and a bottle of vodka. I hurried into the Walmart and stole my six-month-old a baby bottle. When I came out of the store, my car was surrounded by police officers. In fear, I remember going to the back of the parking lot, falling to my knees, and asking myself, “What am I doing?” I walked back to my car, and they asked if this was my child and car. I said “yes,” and off to jail I went (and rightly so). God hit me like a brick wall that day. That was my wakeup call.

My boyfriend at the time called his sister-in-law, who was a bonds lady, to bail me out of jail. The following day when I was released, I called a woman named Debbie Vanhook. She was a thirdgeneration Nazarene. On a couple of occasions, I had reached out to the church she attended. One time was to get a turkey and another to ask for prayer after a three-day drug binge. That is when she took my contact information.

I had said the “sinner’s prayer” a dozen times prior to this moment; being in jail as much as I had, you learn this prayer. But somehow this time was different. I called to see if she would come pray with me. She said “yes” (however, she tells me today that she was certainly hesitant and afraid in that moment). I am sure when she and her husband, Tim, walked through my doorway, the demons went on high alert and scattered out of my apartment. Debbie said to me, “Jenee, I am going to pray with you, and then I want you to repeat this prayer after me.” As she began to pray, I started to cry, and the flood gates of my soul opened. It was as if every piece of filth, refuse, and muck that I had collected during my life was being washed clean with my tears. I was so tired of living like this. I had two daughters and did not want to leave them because I knew what it felt like to be abandoned. However, I also did not want to keep them as a mother addicted to drugs. So, this day I was desperate—so desperate I prayed as I had never prayed before. I sobbed as if someone had died. I believe to this day that it was me—the self-will—who died that day. The old was gone; the new had come. I stood up and was miraculously delivered from a 19-year drug addiction and lifestyle.

Five months later, I had to go to jail for 30 days. During those days in jail, the Lord sanctified me wholly as I surrendered my past, present and future to Him. The message of holiness was made real to me. I knew that was what I had been desiring this whole time, and it was what God wanted for me. No more darkness, no more bondage. I was not only free from the slavery of sin, but I was set in His throne room as His child. I never wanted to be separated from God again. I hungered for righteousness; I was thirsty for His Word. I heard God say to me, “Jenee, quit stealing and go get a job like everyone else.” You see, I was a hustler; it was how I survived most of the time. But in Ephesians 4:28 it says, “Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work doing something useful with their own hands that they may have something to share with those in need.” Then the Lord told me, “Jenee, quit cussing.” I had a bad, toxic mouth and spewed filth with practically every other word. Ephesians 5:4 says, “Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.” So, even my speech changed. I heard the Lord say, “Out of the heart the mouth speaks.” I had now been set free from everything that held me captive and stood between me and God. I had been made holy.

I was called into ministry, and I knew the Lord had called me to teach that there was deliverance and freedom through the God’s plan of entire sanctification. I am currently the lead pastor of an urban core church plant in the inner city of Kansas City and have seen many saved and sanctified. My family and I serve as missionaries to the urban core of Kansas City and across America. There is hope for the hood and a hunger for holiness there.

Can We Disciple People In

HOLINESS?

A

The first time the young man heard about the doctrine of entire sanctification, he said, “That’s heresy!” He couldn’t see how it was possible to live in full surrender and victory over sin. And he couldn’t get past the word “perfect.”

I met that young man a few years ago. Perhaps you’ve met some like him in your town.

Ever wondered, “How can we even disciple someone toward entire sanctification in a world like this?”

To answer that, let’s first look at what we need to overcome.

That young man is representative of an important dynamic in our culture: The “Nobody’s Perfect” Cultural Narrative.

Cultural Narratives vs. Holiness Theology

Humans are wired to understand life through stories. It’s the way we process events, pass on values, and create meaning. But it isn’t just individuals. Cultures tell themselves stories, too. Think

young man from a rough background in Miami’s inner city became a believer.about the stories our culture tells:

• Rags to Riches

• Evil Group vs. Courageous Man

• I’m a Victim

• And many more…

These narratives are powerful. They help us create sense out of the world and its complexity.

So what story does our culture tell itself about perfection?

Finish this sentence: “Well, nobody’s _______.” What word would most people in our culture put there? “Perfect.”

Why? Because there’s a deeply embedded cultural current that we are swimming against, and even we in the Wesleyan-Holiness world know the pull of it, even if we don’t agree with it!

This means that when we stand up and say, “I’ve been made ‘perfect in love’ by the power of the Holy Spirit,” it sounds not just wrongheaded but also arrogant in the cultural moment in which we live.

Cultural Narratives in the Holiness Revival

In the 1800s, human perfectibility

and achievement were objects of fascination. Culturally, the USA was a potent blend of possibility thinking, spurred on by:

• The cultural currents of romanticism and transcendentalism

• Influence of authors such as Thoreau, Emerson, Whitman, and Alcott

• The wonders of science and the Industrial revolution

It was a time of rapid social change, featuring events like the outlawing of slavery in Britain and the United States (within 30 years of each other!). It was the era of Jules Verne’s Around the World in 80 Days . The fastest travel that had ever been available in human history was building around the world: railroads, hot air balloons, steamships, and more. Medical advances were taking place as vaccines were starting to have a real impact on diseases.

All of this change was perceived as a positive. It led to a very hopeful cultural narrative: What next? How high can we go? Look what can be accomplished! During this time, there was also a tremendous revival of Wesleyanism and teaching on Christian perfection. Movements and currents rising during this time included:

• The National Camp Meeting Association for the Promotion of Holiness

• Phoebe Palmer and the “Tuesday Meetings”

• The Methodist Church was planting 2 churches per day during the mid1800s

• Holiness teaching crossed denominational boundaries and became ecumenical.

Of course, it was accomplished through the moving of the Holy Spirit. None of it was possible without His power! But there’s more. While not desiring to take away from the sovereign power of God to overrule cultural currents, I want to point out that He sometimes uses them.

The cultural zeitgeist of that moment did not lend itself toward “nobody’s perfect.” Huge swaths of American culture were wearing what I call “possibility glasses.” And with those glasses, they saw Christian perfection as a perfectly reasonable solution and embraced it in large numbers. The Holiness Movement leaped across denominational barriers and impacted millions.

You might be thinking: but what can we do today?

God has called us to live in this age. We can’t afford to spend the one life we have wishing we could live in another era! How can we move forward on discipling people in holiness in this era?

1. Focus on modeling holiness.

We’ve all been around someone in our past whose godliness and holiness we could not deny. Their combination of gentle and quiet boldness, the sense of the holy love of Jesus flowing from them… we couldn’t explain it any other way. We must let our lives be “the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2 Corinthians 2:15, NKJV). Holiness moves from “impossible” to plausible, when people see it modeled!

2. Be patient and slow to over-spiritualize the objections of those you’re discipling.

We run the risk of alienating people if they do not quickly accept what we believe. It is far too easy to give up and say, “Well, they just don’t want holiness.”

Remember, they are swimming against a mighty current. The cultural narrative of “nobody’s perfect,” spiritual warfare against their holiness, the poor examples of many Christians, and a church world that is full of teaching of a grace that doesn’t transform. Patience is needed as their mind is renewed.

3. Liberally use Scripture, even more than systematic theology.

The call of Scripture is our basis for pointing our disciples toward the possibilities of grace. We must remind them to:

• “Perfect holiness” (2 Cor. 7:1)

• Be “entirely sanctified” (1 Thes. 5:23-24)

• Be “filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18)

• Be “perfect as your Father in heaven is” (Matthew 5:48)

• “Yield our bodies” (Romans 12:1)

• “Count yourselves dead to sin” (Romans 6:17-18)

• “Love God with all your heart” (Matthew 22:37)

God has given an abundant supply of phrases and metaphors for the work of holiness in our hearts. Let’s use the terminology God uses! I am not so worried about my disciples accepting my systematic theology; but I am concerned about them not experiencing the possibilities of grace!

4. Introduce old and modern sources of Scriptural teaching on holiness.

It’s important that your disciples know that holiness is both “timeless” (historically valid) and “timely” (currently relevant).

Find two or three old holiness books that you can recommend, and share those. Then, find someone teaching on holiness in a modern way. Books such as:

• Called To Be Holy by Dr. John Oswalt

• Holiness for Growing Christians by Dr. Allan Brown

• From the Classroom to the Heart by Dr. Paul Kaufman

• Pursuing Holiness Workbook by Rev. Darrell Stetler II

Discipling People in Holiness Can Be Done

Remember the young man who heard about Christian perfection and said, “That’s heresy”?

That young man’s name was Ronald

Pauleus. He was fortunate to be mentored by a pastor in Florida who was WesleyanArminian named Carl Guillame. Carl began teaching and training Ronald. He introduced Ronald to classic holiness writings, systematically studied the Bible with him, and modeled a life of holiness before him.

Ronald eventually became a convinced “Methodist.” By God’s grace, he came to experience what he called “a clean heart.” He attended and graduated from a holiness Bible college… and today he’s one of the pastors at my church in Oklahoma City!

Sure, society might be morally worse off than in years past.

But it can be done!

This calls for patience with people AND with ourselves.

This calls for wisdom in our preaching and our choice of words.

This calls for consistency of holiness in our lives and homes.

And it calls for persistence in proclaiming entire sanctification in whatever place the Lord Jesus has called you, until he comes again to “perfect all things in one.”