testifies of having once felt “lost in his own tradition.” Over time, his theological studies led him to a conviction — Christian pacifism — that seemed to him hopelessly out of tune with the Pentecostalism of his experience. Years later, preparing lectures for a theology course, Mittlestadt discovered the pacifism of the early Pentecostals and found that he was a true son of the movement.

A few weeks ago, a good friend shared with me his story, one that I believe speaks powerfully about the experience of so many people in our churches. Raised by ministers and in the shadow of denominational headquarters, he remembers the intense pressures to hold certain views, to testify to certain feelings and experiences, to agree to certain values that in fact remained stubbornlyforeign to him. For as long as he could, he kept his uneasiness quiet, struggling in prayer and reflection to find a way to remain honestly Pentecostal. One day, he received from God a spiritual impression of being in the back room of an old farmhouse, overhearing conversations in the front rooms. He knew intuitively that the others in those rooms were the leaders of his denomination, and he knew that he did not belong in those conversations. Already in the back of the house, he thought how easy it would be to slip out the back door. But, suddenly, forcefully, he sensed God urging him not to leave that way. He said he heard God say, “Remain as long as you can, and if you are forced