July 3, 1977
A Power Encounter
That weekend was both physically draining and spiritually exciting. Several weeks previous the college had informed us that some of those attending the Summit conference would be staying in the dormitory where our offices were located. By Friday our building was full.
We had placed several booklets in our front entry through which they had to pass, and noticed that the one entitled "Buddha, Zoroaster or Christ?" from InterVarsity was the one most often picked up.
After office hours on Friday and Monday, and most of Saturday and Sunday, many of our staff sat on the courtyard lawn, singing and praying. We noticed that a number of those attending the conference stopped just inside their doorways to listen. Only one ventured to join us, and she invited us to come to hear their "dictation from Jesus" which Elizabeth Claire Prophet was to receive that coming Sunday.
On Friday, Stan Petrowski and his wife, Sandee, returned to the campus. Because most of our staff were newly arrived, Ralph asked Stan to explain to us the Summit teachings so that we would know how to respond to questions anyone attending the conference might ask us. We were impressed once more by how far from the Bible those teachings were.
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Early Saturday morning Stan took his place across the street, on the corner to the west of our building. He didn't want Summit to blame the U.S. Center for World Mission for his witness, and he rarely came near our building that entire weekend. In one hand he supported a large sign which read, "Who are the gods?"
"What do you mean by your sign?" asked a blond haired girl wearing a conference badge, and he started to explain the gospel to her. "Oh, I'm a Christian. I've been filled with the Spirit," she assured Stan.
"Then what are you doing here?" Stan asked. And he started to explain to her the different teachings of Summit and to compare them with Scripture. Almost immediately, twenty to thirty people gathered around them, listening. Some were Summit staff. We came to call them "guards" because they repeatedly tried to silence Stan or to get those listening to him to leave. Stan later told us that from that hour until the end of the conference these guards maintained a close watch over him. Two followed him everywhere he went. and two constantly sat, palms up, on the campus lawn across the street from where he stood, chanting decrees against him.
"Elizabeth (Prophet) would never let them talk to me," he told us. "But just think! Because they have to guard me, they hear everything I say to everyone. I get to preach the gospel to them over and over. Isn't that wonderful?"
At one point a police car drove up, stopped and checked out the situation, but apparently found that Stan was doing nothing illegal.
Ever since the beginning of Summit's conference, we had been singing and praying constantly, it seemed. By Sunday, some of our younger staff members were becoming restless, anxious to bear a more definite witness. But the moment they crossed the street, Bibles in hand, they were ushered off and threatened with a call to the police.
"I hope other Christians are able to witness to them,"
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Beth sighed. "It seems we can't get near. Even those staying in our building rush past us, in and out, almost as if they're afraid of us."
"God can do more things through prayer than we have any idea of," I reminded her. "And they can't keep us from praying."
Monday was the last day of the conference, and by nightfall Bruce had decided that he wanted to try something else. He sought Stan out and talked to him about his idea.
"Stan, you know that one of our organizations rents the upper floor of the Science Building on the main campus. That's just outside the entrance to the auditorium where the conference is being held. What do you think about some of us going over there to pray? We won't sing or pray out loud. We won't disturb their meeting. We'll just go there and pray quietly. What do you think?"
"That's a marvelous idea!" Stan answered. "You know, it's important to them to be able to control the air waves, the so-called 'energies' and the force field surrounding the auditorium. That's the only way they can hear from their 'ascended masters' — Buddha, Jesus, Sanat Kumara, Magda, St. Germain, and so on. There's a host of them. Only then can Elizabeth Claire Prophet receive her dictations from the spirit world. But if you fill the air with prayers, those dictations won't be able to reach her; those spirits can't get through to her with their messages."
So Bruce asked Ray Carlson of International Films for permission to pray in their offices.
At 6 PM we met as usual on the lawn in our courtyard and began to pray and sing as we had been doing for a week. To all outward appearances, we had accomplished very little by all those extra hours of singing and praying. But we reminded ourselves that when Paul and Silas sang and prayed in prison, marvelous things happened. We had no other weapon to defeat Satan. Perhaps God would use our songs and our prayers in this battle. At least we hoped the enemy
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would be defeated in his attempt to deceive Summit guests, many of whom, we found out, were members of Christian churches.
Neither Ralph nor I knew what else our young staff planned to do that evening. Ralph, just back from a long trip, was busy in his office, and I was very weary. It had been a long week. After working eight hours every day, I had eaten a quick sandwich, then stayed to sing and pray with the 15 others. All day Saturday and Sunday we had been at our vigil, covering our part of the campus with prayer and praise. By the end of the week I was very tired.
Although Stan was the only one we knew who was overtly involved in discussions of any length with Summit guests, none of us doubted for a moment that we also were involved in this very real, spiritual struggle. Throughout the previous months we had become acutely aware that when involved in spiritual warfare, it is very important to pray in the name of Jesus. Jesus told his disciples, "Ask anything in my name." I had always thought of that verse as a wonderful promise. Since childhood I had always closed my prayers with the words "in Jesus' name." That weekend when we battled as never before with unseen spiritual forces, we became conscious that because of Who He is, the name of Jesus spoken in prayer carries real spiritual power.
The meeting in the auditorium started early that last night of the conference. Every other evening, beginning around 9 PM, loud chanting could be heard for blocks: "I AM the way; I AM the truth; I AM the life; I AM the resurrection; I AM in me, my very own beloved Christ self." Whatever the chant chosen for that particular night, it always seemed to end with the thrice repeated , mesmerizing refrain such as "I AM the Word of God, I AM the Word of God, I AM the Word of God incarnate." I never failed to cringe at the blasphemy.
That night, the last one of their conference, there was no chanting. All was strangely silent. After singing and praying
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for some time, our young staff stopped, looked at each other and then rose from the lawn. It was still two hours before we usually finished praying, and I asked, "Where are you going?"
"We just thought we'd go across the street to the Science Building and pray there," Bruce answered. "I checked it out with Ray Carlson, and he says it's okay. And Stan thinks it might be just the thing to do."
"But you know they'll run you off," I warned. "And we really don't want to antagonize them. After all, we have to live with them another year!"
Just at that moment, the door from the front lobby to the patio opened, and three of the top Summit staff walked briskly up the sidewalk by which we stood. I looked at them in amazement, wondering where on earth they were going. As they passed me, our young people moved in the opposite direction, down into the lobby, out the front door and across the street from which the other group had come.
I was both stunned and amused. The two groups seemed almost oblivious of each other as they both went their purposeful ways. I saw the Summit three stop before Ralph's office and knock. And I wondered, idly, why he didn't answer.
By then the young people were already across the street, and I wondered what I should do. Should I stop them, or should I talk to the Summit leaders? Where was Ralph, anyway? (Unknown to me, he had gone to another office to type a letter). "Lord, you'll have to show me what to do," I prayed. "I just don't have the wisdom for this situation."
A number of times we had been accused of trespassing on their property. In reality, a number of Christians in the neighborhood from time to time invaded the campus, witnessing to everyone who would listen. Usually we did not even know these Christians; nevertheless, invariably we were blamed for everything they did or said. Usually we had not known what they had done until we were accused of trespassing. Once anyone on our staff was recognized by Summit
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members, we couldn't step even a foot on their property. But we were glad that someone else was trying to get through to them, just in case someone was truly searching for God.
So I sat there and prayed, looking first one way and then the other, wondering what to do. But the situation was out of my hands and Ralph's.
Several hours later our young people reported, "We had barely reached the steps of the Science Building when the men who had walked into our building came back across and saw us there."
"What are you doing here?" one of them asked.
"We're praying."
"Praying? What for?"
"We're praying for the meeting in the auditorium."
"What are you praying for that for?"
"We're praying that the people will come to know Jesus Christ as the only One who can forgive their sins."
One Summit leader, rather disturbed, asked, "Are you willing to submit your prayers to the will of God?"
"Certainly," Bruce answered, not really understanding what the question meant.
By this time, six other pastelclad guards had joined the three, and attempted to engage the young people in theological argument. But Bruce interposed, "We didn't come over here to argue. We only want to pray. We will do it silently. We won't bother you."
"No, you must get off this campus or we'll call the police."
"No," Bruce answered. "The offices upstairs belong to one of our organizations, and we have been invited by them to come here to pray."
The guards moved away and conferred together. Then they returned, and one shook his finger at them and shouted, "In the name of the eternal Christ-self, I order you to cease praying and to leave this campus!"
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The young Christians would have been amazed at the oddity of using Christ's name to stop someone from praying had they not been so intent in their own prayers while Bruce talked. Nobody moved. It was a deadlock.
The guards moved away again to confer among themselves, and when they returned Bruce said, "Look, we don't want to make you angry. We'll just go upstairs and have our prayer meeting there."
And they did, joined about that time by one of our board members. They prayed and sang quietly for an hour or more, binding Satan in his efforts to deceive the people so near them and yet so far from the truth of the Bible. They rejoiced in the sense of the presence of the Lord there with them in that "upper room."
It was nearing 11 PM and still there had been no chanting that evening. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was locked, as was the door on the ground floor entrance, but when Bruce opened it, three cult leaders entered. "We just thought we would stop by and say hello," the only woman said.
"Hmm! I wonder if this is an opportunity to witness sent by God, or is it a ploy to distract us from praying so that their medium can receive another 'dictation' from the spirit world?" Bruce thought. And before turning to talk with those who had entered, he urged some of the others to continue in prayer.
Valerie, the woman, asked why they were praying. "After all, we're Christians just like you."
"If you are, then you also believe that Jesus is the only begotten Son of God, the only One who can take away our sins," Judd, a Christian from the neighborhood, answered. He read John 3:16 from his Bible. "Do you believe that?"
"We believe that Jesus is God. But the Bible says, 'Ye are all gods,' " one answered, but he couldn't remember the Biblical reference.
This theological debate, for such it was, lasted for some
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time while three of our group continued praying off in one corner. Our people talked about the Garden of Eden, about Satan's attempt to be "like God," about his tempting Eve with the words, "God knows that the instant you eat the fruit, you will become like Him" (Genesis 3:4). They were amazed at how the Holy Spirit brought the right Bible references to their minds at the right time. They felt the Holy Spirit was truly speaking through them.
The Summit people seemed to recognize that the only authority our young people would accept was the Bible, and they tried to quote from it several times. But they obviously didn't know it very well. One said at one point, "Like the Bible says, 'God helps those who help themselves.' "
Nobody even smiled when Bruce pointed out that this quote wasn't from the Bible, but later, when our young people recounted it to us, they all burst into laughter.
It was also clear that the Summit people were trying to find out who was behind the U.S. Center for World Mission. They questioned each of our group, one by one, as to their church connections, and could hardly believe that almost every one came from a different church. They were even more incredulous when they learned that people of many different denominations all over the nation were praying for us and shared completely a single Biblical faith.
The discussion lasted for more than an hour. Almost as if she were watching a clock, Valerie suddenly said, "I think we can leave now."
"Let us pray with you first. May we?" Bob asked.
They seemed ill at ease, momentarily at a loss as to how to respond, but assented. Each Christian prayed a few sentences, asking the Lord to make himself real to these people. They wanted them to meet the real Jesus, not the "angel of light" who called himself by that name and led them astray.
Alex, one of the cult leaders, prayed too, but he acted as if he felt very ill at ease. His prayer was part chant, part prayer — eyes wide open and afraid. Then they left.
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The young people felt that it had been a great victory, and they praised the Lord. They thanked the Lord for giving them words that were effective and without argument. And they thanked Him for the sense of love they each felt in their hearts for these poor deluded people.
The chants that evening were either subdued or non-existent. Across the street I listened for them, but did not hear them. And once again I wondered if our prayers were responsible.
It had been a long arduous weekend — both for us and the cult. We appreciated the experience of Elijah on Mt. Carmel as we never had before. We felt that we understood now what missionaries meant when they spoke of a "power encounter." We had been through one — not with human beings, but with forces opposed to the God of the Bible. And God had won!
Yet we still felt inadequate to meet the spiritual needs of those across the street, and prayed that all those leaving the campus we shared, going back across the country, would at least this once have to recognize that there is a God in heaven (Daniel 2:28), that no other god can do what this One does (Daniel 3:29), and that He alone is the God of all the kingdoms of the earth (2 Kings 19:15).
