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When I Spoke in Tongues: A Story of Faith and Its Loss
A memoir of the profound destabilization that comes from losing one's faith--and a young woman's journey to reconcile her lack of belief with her love for her deeply religious family.
Growing up in poverty in the rural backwoods of southern Maryland, the Pentecostal church was at the core of Jessica Wilbanks' family life. At sixteen, driven by a desire to discover the world, Jessica walked away from the church--trading her faith for freedom, and driving a wedge between her and her deeply religious family.
But fundamentalist faiths haunt their adherents long after belief fades--former believers frequently live in limbo, straddling two world views and trying to reconcile their past and present. Ten years later, struggling with guilt and shame, Jessica began a quest to recover her faith. It led her to West Africa, where she explored the Yorùbá roots of the Pentecostal faith, and was once again swept up by the promises and power of the church. After a terrifying car crash, she finally began the difficult work of forgiving herself for leaving the church and her family and finding her own path.
When I Spoke in Tongues is a story of the painful and complicated process of losing one's faith and moving across class divides. And in the end, it's a story of how a family splintered by dogmatic faith can eventually be knit together again through love.
Growing up in poverty in the rural backwoods of southern Maryland, the Pentecostal church was at the core of Jessica Wilbanks' family life. At sixteen, driven by a desire to discover the world, Jessica walked away from the church--trading her faith for freedom, and driving a wedge between her and her deeply religious family.
But fundamentalist faiths haunt their adherents long after belief fades--former believers frequently live in limbo, straddling two world views and trying to reconcile their past and present. Ten years later, struggling with guilt and shame, Jessica began a quest to recover her faith. It led her to West Africa, where she explored the Yorùbá roots of the Pentecostal faith, and was once again swept up by the promises and power of the church. After a terrifying car crash, she finally began the difficult work of forgiving herself for leaving the church and her family and finding her own path.
When I Spoke in Tongues is a story of the painful and complicated process of losing one's faith and moving across class divides. And in the end, it's a story of how a family splintered by dogmatic faith can eventually be knit together again through love.
272 pages, Hardcover
First published November 13, 2018
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April 13, 2022
Review The preacher in the author's Pentecostal, hellfire & brimstone church of her youth
The island, like all islands here is rooted in fundamentalism. The poor and immigrants from other islands with less education, go to churches that preach hellfire and no wearing jewellery or lipstick, and some of them, speaking in tongues. The not-so-poor go to Evangelical rather than Pentecostal churches. Those at the top of the tree go to Methodist or Anglican churches where everyone wears a hat on a Sunday, and a quiet decorum is maintained.
There are outliers - the Catholics, the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Seventh Day Adventists. These three groups hate each other with a passion that doesn't extend to other churches. What is notable is that all the rules and regulations seem to be ignored by the preachers as they grow richer. When they get caught having adulterous affairs, or with boys, they say it was Satan's influence and they beg the forgiveness of the congregation who are urged to tithe a little more so he can get therapy. I kid you not.
The island has advanced to debating whether two local women who got married in the UK should have their marriage recognised here. Lesbians are ok walking around holding hands, gays less so. There is a lot of rhetoric about gays, anti-men and batty boys as they are called, but no one does anything, they still get invited everywhere. Not so in Jamaica where they can get assaulted or killed. Jamaica is extremely homophobic.
Abortion isn't that much of a problem, it's easy to fly out to somewhere like Guyana where you pay your money and get what you want. No one ever brings up the religious or pro-life aspects of it. I had a Guyanese, Hindu, maid who had 6+ abortions, she couldn't remember. Her husband wouldn't let her use the pill and wouldn't use contraception himself. I don't know if he knew she had abortions. They had just one child, a daughter which he was ok with. The Guyanese Muslims go on having children until they get a boy.
Witchcraft is illegal, but nonetheless Obeah is rife. Obeah isn't a religion, it's spells, a system of magic from West Africa to get money, punish people and take off curses. It is expensive and very secret and usually runs alongside Christianity.
The myth of Voodoo is that it also is a system of magic and confined to Haiti and where Haitians live like Brooklyn and Fort Lauderdale. Voodoo, Shango and all the others are alive and well on every island. St Lucia is as great a centre for it as Haiti, it's just covered up. It is illegal here to import voodoo dolls, but Jamaicans and Santo Domingans do it all the time. Voodoo is though a proper religion and quite a clever one with a great deal of psychological and political practices. Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn was the first and one of the best books I've read on it too.
Lots of people believe that America is the Holy Land of milk and honey and green cards, but is the very devil too. Bill Gates is putting microchips in the vaccine and we are being monitored by the 5G towers. We probably are, but through our phones, why bother with vaccines when everyone owns a phone?
HIV/AIDs is still considered a punishment from God, for all the evil people have committed, by some of the Churches (the ones that preach against vaccines). All non-Seventh Day Adventist churches (some of my family) consider the 7th Day to be the very devil. The 7th Day church considers Catholics to be so and that the pope is the incarnation of the Devil and bears the 666 mark!
It's so fun living in an island that is rich and advanced on the surface, but a seething mass of conspiracy theories, fundamentalism and hatred underneath. The author of this book wouldn't like it but her family might well feel quite at home here in a local Pentacostalist church.
April 2022
He told us of the seven evil spirits that afflicted America, that were here somewhere in this town, here in this room with us even—the persecution of Christians, homosexuality, abortion, racism, addiction, the occult, and HIV/AIDS. He said when you put those letters together they spelled PHARAOH, and that meant the Devil was triumphing in America today just as he had once before in ancient Egypt.What a preacher! I can see how with oratory like that he was popular. He would go down so well in the Caribbean, would be a bishop in no time at all!
The island, like all islands here is rooted in fundamentalism. The poor and immigrants from other islands with less education, go to churches that preach hellfire and no wearing jewellery or lipstick, and some of them, speaking in tongues. The not-so-poor go to Evangelical rather than Pentecostal churches. Those at the top of the tree go to Methodist or Anglican churches where everyone wears a hat on a Sunday, and a quiet decorum is maintained.
There are outliers - the Catholics, the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Seventh Day Adventists. These three groups hate each other with a passion that doesn't extend to other churches. What is notable is that all the rules and regulations seem to be ignored by the preachers as they grow richer. When they get caught having adulterous affairs, or with boys, they say it was Satan's influence and they beg the forgiveness of the congregation who are urged to tithe a little more so he can get therapy. I kid you not.
The island has advanced to debating whether two local women who got married in the UK should have their marriage recognised here. Lesbians are ok walking around holding hands, gays less so. There is a lot of rhetoric about gays, anti-men and batty boys as they are called, but no one does anything, they still get invited everywhere. Not so in Jamaica where they can get assaulted or killed. Jamaica is extremely homophobic.
Abortion isn't that much of a problem, it's easy to fly out to somewhere like Guyana where you pay your money and get what you want. No one ever brings up the religious or pro-life aspects of it. I had a Guyanese, Hindu, maid who had 6+ abortions, she couldn't remember. Her husband wouldn't let her use the pill and wouldn't use contraception himself. I don't know if he knew she had abortions. They had just one child, a daughter which he was ok with. The Guyanese Muslims go on having children until they get a boy.
Witchcraft is illegal, but nonetheless Obeah is rife. Obeah isn't a religion, it's spells, a system of magic from West Africa to get money, punish people and take off curses. It is expensive and very secret and usually runs alongside Christianity.
The myth of Voodoo is that it also is a system of magic and confined to Haiti and where Haitians live like Brooklyn and Fort Lauderdale. Voodoo, Shango and all the others are alive and well on every island. St Lucia is as great a centre for it as Haiti, it's just covered up. It is illegal here to import voodoo dolls, but Jamaicans and Santo Domingans do it all the time. Voodoo is though a proper religion and quite a clever one with a great deal of psychological and political practices. Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn was the first and one of the best books I've read on it too.
Lots of people believe that America is the Holy Land of milk and honey and green cards, but is the very devil too. Bill Gates is putting microchips in the vaccine and we are being monitored by the 5G towers. We probably are, but through our phones, why bother with vaccines when everyone owns a phone?
HIV/AIDs is still considered a punishment from God, for all the evil people have committed, by some of the Churches (the ones that preach against vaccines). All non-Seventh Day Adventist churches (some of my family) consider the 7th Day to be the very devil. The 7th Day church considers Catholics to be so and that the pope is the incarnation of the Devil and bears the 666 mark!
It's so fun living in an island that is rich and advanced on the surface, but a seething mass of conspiracy theories, fundamentalism and hatred underneath. The author of this book wouldn't like it but her family might well feel quite at home here in a local Pentacostalist church.
April 2022
November 15, 2018
(3.5) As soon as I read the blurb, I knew that I had to read this. I, too, grew up attending a Pentecostal-style church in southern Maryland and have since drifted away from the faith of my youth. I thus recognized the emotional tumult of Wilbanks’ trajectory – the lure of power and certainty; the threat of punishment and ostracism – as well as some of the specifics of her experience. She lived in rented farmhouses with her brick layer father, mother and three brothers and believed wholeheartedly in the Bible, prayer and revival, but by the time she was a teenager she had privately renounced it all. Coming to terms with her bisexual identity was the first step in finding a life of her own, which she continued as she attended college in New England and then graduate school in Houston.
My favorite part was Chapter 10, “Left Behind,” especially the pages about some golden days spent in Taos, New Mexico. Where the book lost me a bit, and I suspect will lose a good proportion of its potential readers, is when Wilbanks travels to Nigeria to research the possible Yoruba roots of Pentecostalism in the summer of 2010. For, though she barely set foot in Christian churches anymore, she was still intrigued by supposed movements of the Holy Spirit, especially in the Global South. Captivated by the story of Enoch Adeboye and his Redemption Camp millions-strong meetings (his church also has a branch in Houston), but also by the tragedy of suspected child ‘witches’ being subjected to inhumane treatment, she went to see the good and the bad for herself and ended up being in a serious car accident.
In recreating the African material from her copious notes taken at the time, Wilbanks mostly just sets down information without judgment, recounting sermons about how giving money to the church will preserve you in perfect health and solve all your problems (while keeping the pastor in three-piece suits and luxury cars). The fact that she no longer maintains any connection to the Church tells you that she thinks this is all nonsense, but I preferred the head-on theological questioning in Kate Bowler’s Everything Happens for a Reason. There are also shades of Tara Westover’s Educated in terms of the abusive misuse of religion. But the long interlude in Africa feels like niche stuff that could limit the book’s appeal.
My favorite part was Chapter 10, “Left Behind,” especially the pages about some golden days spent in Taos, New Mexico. Where the book lost me a bit, and I suspect will lose a good proportion of its potential readers, is when Wilbanks travels to Nigeria to research the possible Yoruba roots of Pentecostalism in the summer of 2010. For, though she barely set foot in Christian churches anymore, she was still intrigued by supposed movements of the Holy Spirit, especially in the Global South. Captivated by the story of Enoch Adeboye and his Redemption Camp millions-strong meetings (his church also has a branch in Houston), but also by the tragedy of suspected child ‘witches’ being subjected to inhumane treatment, she went to see the good and the bad for herself and ended up being in a serious car accident.
In recreating the African material from her copious notes taken at the time, Wilbanks mostly just sets down information without judgment, recounting sermons about how giving money to the church will preserve you in perfect health and solve all your problems (while keeping the pastor in three-piece suits and luxury cars). The fact that she no longer maintains any connection to the Church tells you that she thinks this is all nonsense, but I preferred the head-on theological questioning in Kate Bowler’s Everything Happens for a Reason. There are also shades of Tara Westover’s Educated in terms of the abusive misuse of religion. But the long interlude in Africa feels like niche stuff that could limit the book’s appeal.
February 20, 2025
Hit a nerve!
Her writing is raw and truthful when it comes to relationships and the disconnect she feels at times with her family.
As a teen, she writes a note to herself in the church bathroom that she no longer believes in God. Which after that it was like a new self emerged, freeing. And in my mind, crucial to untangling from the belief system that was inscribed to follow since birth. Eventually, once you break out of that mold, the process leads to finding your own path. Some return to their original faith, while others search and find that science and the natural world are the absolute—no higher power above. Or they land somewhere in the middle. There’s no wrong way to deconstruct.
So I don’t ever want to over analyze someone’s story.
But towards the middle of the book, she’s now in her 20s and we go from reading about a lost soul searching for meaning, to this journey researching the origins of the Pentecostal religion. Which sounds so interesting, personal introspection woven into history. But at some point, there’s this disconnect. When she visited churches in Nigeria, she states that she spent her days interviewing members, seemingly worshiping and enjoying church services, and the focus shifts entirely to the history and writing about the modern-day witch hunts against women in the area. And while that is awful and should be reported on. It was unexpected—I felt like I lost her in the process.
Multiple times she mentions the joy and connection she feels worshiping with people in church, even though she doesn’t believe in God. But if she feels that way, why doesn’t she explain the journey that brought her there? It was like a hard shutdown after her teenage declaration of disbelief, and she never bridges the gap. Has she considered that maybe she does believe in a higher power, just not the Pentecostal God?
Obviously, deconstruction and faith is lifelong journey that most of us never feel like we have a final answer to. But from all accounts, she never explicitly tells her family that she is no longer religious. And by the end, as a reader, I’m not sure I really know either.
Her writing is raw and truthful when it comes to relationships and the disconnect she feels at times with her family.
As a teen, she writes a note to herself in the church bathroom that she no longer believes in God. Which after that it was like a new self emerged, freeing. And in my mind, crucial to untangling from the belief system that was inscribed to follow since birth. Eventually, once you break out of that mold, the process leads to finding your own path. Some return to their original faith, while others search and find that science and the natural world are the absolute—no higher power above. Or they land somewhere in the middle. There’s no wrong way to deconstruct.
So I don’t ever want to over analyze someone’s story.
But towards the middle of the book, she’s now in her 20s and we go from reading about a lost soul searching for meaning, to this journey researching the origins of the Pentecostal religion. Which sounds so interesting, personal introspection woven into history. But at some point, there’s this disconnect. When she visited churches in Nigeria, she states that she spent her days interviewing members, seemingly worshiping and enjoying church services, and the focus shifts entirely to the history and writing about the modern-day witch hunts against women in the area. And while that is awful and should be reported on. It was unexpected—I felt like I lost her in the process.
Multiple times she mentions the joy and connection she feels worshiping with people in church, even though she doesn’t believe in God. But if she feels that way, why doesn’t she explain the journey that brought her there? It was like a hard shutdown after her teenage declaration of disbelief, and she never bridges the gap. Has she considered that maybe she does believe in a higher power, just not the Pentecostal God?
Obviously, deconstruction and faith is lifelong journey that most of us never feel like we have a final answer to. But from all accounts, she never explicitly tells her family that she is no longer religious. And by the end, as a reader, I’m not sure I really know either.
October 31, 2018
This is probably one of the saddest books I've read all year. It's a true story of one woman's journey of faith and its eventual loss. Jessica Wilbanks was raised in a Pentecostal church in Southern Maryland, where preachers hooted and howled, people flailed and danced in the aisles, services lasted for hours on end, and the message was simple: repent and be baptized, shun worldly ways and God will bless you with health and wealth and gifts of prophecy and tongues. The "health and wealth gospel" at its worst. Wilbanks begins to doubt what she's been taught, and so as an adult she begins a quest to find out the roots of her childhood faith. She travels to Nigeria, where she intends to conduct research into the origin of Pentecostal beliefs. There she encounters fellow researchers, friends, preachers, witnesses rampant corruption, is in a serious car accident and sees firsthand some of the sordid, tribal practices mixed in with "Christian" church services. It's a very sad story, mostly because, in my opinion, Wilbanks was raised in an extreme offshoot of Christianity, a cultish sort of group, and yet she thinks that is what Christianity is. She's coming from a very skewed perspective of the faith, a truly spiritually abusive base. And yet she struggles with losing her faith and seems to wish it could come back. It doesn't come back. And Wilbanks seems at peace with that at the end. I can't help feeling that she was robbed along the way. Robbed of a normal sort of life, a life with a faith that encourages and lifts up, instead of one that is oppressive, nebulous and provides only pat answers to her questions. Growing up in a spiritually abusive cult is hard to recover from, especially if you don't see it as such.
March 29, 2019
Other than the unexpected gaps when Ms. Wilbanks let a few years pass between the end of one chapter and the next, I found this memoir easy to follow and highly relatable. I was raised in Black Pentecostal churches, switching to a predominantly white Evangelical church in my late twenties before moving to NYC and joining a progressive Christian church. Now I am a Christian atheist. So I could strongly relate to Wilbanks' descriptions of her doubts and questions, leaving the faith, wanting very much to believe again, and ultimately finding herself unable to. It was interesting to read about her search for absolutes that could make her believe again. What an interesting journey across continents it was! I don't remember how I learned of her book, but I am glad to have read it.
December 10, 2018
Another very good book in a recent wave of numerous and good memoirs written by women; this time in the context of a religious zealots' upbringing. The author is good at analysing her upbringing in the Pentecostal faith, her feelings and difficulty accepting the religion, and especially this neophyte type of cult in which one is subject to all encompassing control which provides safety and community feeling but is also a source of oppression and anxiety. Through many struggles, study and research, she describes her coming to terms with her childhood and her upbrining, finding her own resolution. The book is very well written, offers no easy solutions, stays away from easy judgements yet affirms the author's and protagonist's strength.
February 28, 2019
An eloquently told, honest story of Jessica Wilbanks journey out of, and following struggles with her religious faith.
I listened to the audiobook and Frankie Corzo's narration was fantastic.
Many people who leave the faith struggle with finding a new community, with battling their old biases, and suffer strained relationships with their family. Jessica Wilbanks explores all of this in her story. Her journey to Africa to try and find the origins of the Pentecostal church is eye opening, and grants perspective on how different religions find their roots in culture. Both interesting and relatable, I give this book 4 stars.
I listened to the audiobook and Frankie Corzo's narration was fantastic.
Many people who leave the faith struggle with finding a new community, with battling their old biases, and suffer strained relationships with their family. Jessica Wilbanks explores all of this in her story. Her journey to Africa to try and find the origins of the Pentecostal church is eye opening, and grants perspective on how different religions find their roots in culture. Both interesting and relatable, I give this book 4 stars.
March 14, 2019
I was deeply saddened and troubled by this book. I am a Christian myself, and I find it horrendous when parents condemn or judge their children’s sexuality or when a pastor calls out someone who is nonbeliever. I, myself, was agnostic/atheist for many years and it is people like that in this world who have people running away from Jesus. It didn’t surprise me that Wilbanks left the Pentecostal church after all those years.
My only hope is that Wilbanks will someday find Jesus’s love again for there is still hope that she may.
My only hope is that Wilbanks will someday find Jesus’s love again for there is still hope that she may.
July 2, 2024
I had to read this book. I was at a summer poetry seminar I go to and we had to choose a topic that we struggled with. I chose my Pentecostal upbringing and informed the group that I was raised in this super-strict religion (next door to Amish was my description) and how once I achieved adulthood, I was out of it. However, the subjects of church and religion are ones that are so tangled up in my doubt and resentment that I have just rejected all faiths completely. I told the group that I felt that I needed to deal with it, to really examine it to see what I actually believed.
We went to lunch and the guest speaker was announced. It was Jessica Wilbanks, there to do a reading from her book. Every member of my group turned to stare at me in unison! It really did seem like a sign. I met her afterward and we talked for a bit, and I promised to read her book. It is good and I can definitely identify with her struggles, as they mirrored mine. I do have to say that her church actually seems more liberal than mine--her dad drank beer and her mother wore pants. Those were hellfire sins in my church!
She kind of lost me when she went to Nigeria to research the origins of the church. I was reading it more for answers for myself, for things I could connect to my situation and that part didn't seem relatable to me. Overall, though, it provides an interesting window into some of the religious practices of these fundamentalist churches.
As for me, I'm still trying to figure out what I believe. My mother passed recently, so that has really brought the subject of the afterlife to the front of my brain. I'm not getting any younger, so I need to figure out if what I am doing will get me into heaven--or if I believe in one at all.
We went to lunch and the guest speaker was announced. It was Jessica Wilbanks, there to do a reading from her book. Every member of my group turned to stare at me in unison! It really did seem like a sign. I met her afterward and we talked for a bit, and I promised to read her book. It is good and I can definitely identify with her struggles, as they mirrored mine. I do have to say that her church actually seems more liberal than mine--her dad drank beer and her mother wore pants. Those were hellfire sins in my church!
She kind of lost me when she went to Nigeria to research the origins of the church. I was reading it more for answers for myself, for things I could connect to my situation and that part didn't seem relatable to me. Overall, though, it provides an interesting window into some of the religious practices of these fundamentalist churches.
As for me, I'm still trying to figure out what I believe. My mother passed recently, so that has really brought the subject of the afterlife to the front of my brain. I'm not getting any younger, so I need to figure out if what I am doing will get me into heaven--or if I believe in one at all.
August 7, 2018
It is never easy leaving the religion of your birth, especially if you have been immersed in it as a child through adulthood. This is what Jessica Wilbanks finds out after she realises her devotion to Christianity fading. She had stopped attending churches and began to question some of her beliefs. Alarmed and scarred, she takes an unconventional step - travelling to Nigeria, a place where she believes Christianity is purer and stronger. She does this to see if she can her faith recharged. The account of her journey to Nigeria and its aftermath make up the bulk of this book.
When I Spoke In Tongues tries (sometimes unsuccessfully) to place emphasis on the author's experience without interpreting to the reader what it all means. This means the reader is allowed to make up their minds about people, situations and doctrines.
Whether you are struggling with your faith (whatever religious persuasion you are) or still going strong in it, When I Spoke In Tongues opens a portal into how people who are having a crisis of faith are perceived inside and outside church circles. It also reveals the struggles, conflicts, and contradictions in the mind of those going through such changes.
Many thanks to Beacon Press for review copy.
When I Spoke In Tongues tries (sometimes unsuccessfully) to place emphasis on the author's experience without interpreting to the reader what it all means. This means the reader is allowed to make up their minds about people, situations and doctrines.
Whether you are struggling with your faith (whatever religious persuasion you are) or still going strong in it, When I Spoke In Tongues opens a portal into how people who are having a crisis of faith are perceived inside and outside church circles. It also reveals the struggles, conflicts, and contradictions in the mind of those going through such changes.
Many thanks to Beacon Press for review copy.
June 3, 2018
I was more interested in the author than the history of the Pentecostal church.
January 8, 2019
“My days of seeking were over. If a prayer rose up in my throat in some moment of happiness or fear, I’d push it back down. But I would never stop missing the old days.”
July 1, 2019
I honestly have no words for what this book did for me. I have never read anything else that so perfectly captured the feeling of having it and the experience of losing it.
July 6, 2019
I started this book a few months ago, set it down because I wasn't sure where it was headed, but then picked it back up again and felt compelled by the story, enough to finish. It is a well-written account of how a girl who grew up being extremely religious lost her faith and built a new identity apart from that faith. I enjoyed the honesty of her observations, especially about her time in Nigeria and investigation of Pentecostalism. Unlike other memoirs, I felt that this book felt a little aimless and meandering, without a unifying theme. It basically traced the chronology of her life, without emphasizing any one moment over another. Still, I found it fascinating, and I enjoyed hearing another person's account of how they lost their faith. I would recommend Barbara Taylor Bradford's Leaving Church as required reading for anyone who abandons their faith, but this would be great supplemental reading for anyone from the Pentecostal tradition.
April 2, 2019
I wanted to read this book after I found out about it when I heard Jessica Wilbanks speak at a conference I attended (NonFictioNow). I’m always interested in reading about experiences of faith and loss of faith from people around my generation. Wilbanks is from a different region and a different faith background, with a different family, but so much of her experience resonated for me. And the writing is just gorgeous. The unexpected (to me) detour to Nigeria and Wilbanks’ exploration of the roots of Pentecostalism—and it’s modern permutations—brought interesting insights into how travel and a foreign culture forced her to confront herself and her faith further and reconcile what she really believes, and doesn’t.
April 8, 2019
I particularly loved the author's honest reflections in the last chapter.
March 25, 2019
Well-researched and very interesting; a real page turner...just didn't have the ending I was pulling for.
March 20, 2019
"Wilbanks relates the human need for acceptance and community through a unique lens – revealing how language and story can shape or empower the ways we find them."
check out my full review at Angel City Review! http://angelcityreview.com/when-i-spo...
check out my full review at Angel City Review! http://angelcityreview.com/when-i-spo...
January 19, 2019
The memoir in general is thoughtful, painful, and very honest. I was reminded of an old friend of mine in the early 70s. I had known her to be a smart, adventurous young woman. We lived in Michigan, but one summer I encountered her hitchhiking in Arizona, where I'd been hitchhiking. I convinced the young boy drivers to stop for someone I thought I recognized, and sure enough, it was my friend. We had a great time catching up, and then we continued on our separate ways.
About six months later, I saw her again at the outdoor wedding of mutual friends. I was shocked: she'd chopped off her long beautiful hair ("Don't be upset, hair and looks are trivial, none of it matters") and her demeanor, although kind, was strange and rigid. She tried hard to get me to come to dinner at the collective where she lived, but I evaded her.
It turned out that she'd been caught up in the Moonies and was thoroughly indoctrinated. Several years later, I read about her in the newspaper. Her parents had kidnapped her and successfully deprogrammed her. What struck me most was her honest acknowledgment: the conditions had been harsh, she hadn't been in control of her own life, she was glad to be out....and sometimes she honestly missed the pure intensity of the experience.
Wilbanks has a whole different story, but the longing for more, for certainty and vivid communal experience felt similar. Moonies are way different: it's not exactly home-grown, and it's not exactly on the ascendence, unlike evangelical fundamentalism.
So it was important reading to me. I appreciated her later irritation with her parents, who always lived hand to mouth, hated the government, refused to take assistance from agencies, and never seemed to try to do better or try for more, "because the Lord will provide, He always does". Wilbanks thinks people should do something. So do I.
But the part that still leaves me profoundly confused is her trip to Nigeria. Her post-fundamentalist study leads her to wonder about the connection between speaking in tongues and other somewhat exotic fundamentalist behaviors, and the influence of cross-cultural experience with Nigerian Christianity. I don't understand the connection or the influence. And Nigerian fundamentalist Christianity is deeply disturbing. It seems to combine elements of "God will provide" and God's will, and a kind of human helplessness. But humans don't want to be helpless. So what do you do when bad things happen? Maybe you study the ways in which you and your community have displeased God. And then at some point, you start killing "witches".
Scary. Still trying to process.
About six months later, I saw her again at the outdoor wedding of mutual friends. I was shocked: she'd chopped off her long beautiful hair ("Don't be upset, hair and looks are trivial, none of it matters") and her demeanor, although kind, was strange and rigid. She tried hard to get me to come to dinner at the collective where she lived, but I evaded her.
It turned out that she'd been caught up in the Moonies and was thoroughly indoctrinated. Several years later, I read about her in the newspaper. Her parents had kidnapped her and successfully deprogrammed her. What struck me most was her honest acknowledgment: the conditions had been harsh, she hadn't been in control of her own life, she was glad to be out....and sometimes she honestly missed the pure intensity of the experience.
Wilbanks has a whole different story, but the longing for more, for certainty and vivid communal experience felt similar. Moonies are way different: it's not exactly home-grown, and it's not exactly on the ascendence, unlike evangelical fundamentalism.
So it was important reading to me. I appreciated her later irritation with her parents, who always lived hand to mouth, hated the government, refused to take assistance from agencies, and never seemed to try to do better or try for more, "because the Lord will provide, He always does". Wilbanks thinks people should do something. So do I.
But the part that still leaves me profoundly confused is her trip to Nigeria. Her post-fundamentalist study leads her to wonder about the connection between speaking in tongues and other somewhat exotic fundamentalist behaviors, and the influence of cross-cultural experience with Nigerian Christianity. I don't understand the connection or the influence. And Nigerian fundamentalist Christianity is deeply disturbing. It seems to combine elements of "God will provide" and God's will, and a kind of human helplessness. But humans don't want to be helpless. So what do you do when bad things happen? Maybe you study the ways in which you and your community have displeased God. And then at some point, you start killing "witches".
Scary. Still trying to process.
November 14, 2018
I found this to be a very interesting memoir of one who had embraced Pentecostal faith as a child and let go of it later in life. Though Wilbanks describes herself as one who no longer believes, she is generally respectful of those who do believe.
The part of the book I appreciated the most was her experience in Nigeria. She had come across the Redeemed Church in east Texas. Its origins were in Nigeria so she managed to do research there for her thesis. I really liked her information about Christianity in southern Nigeria. I learned a great deal, such as about Helen Ukpabio and supposed children witches. Another part of her book quite informative was her investigation into the history of Pentecostalism in America.
I recommend this book to readers who would like to know what it was like to grow up in a Pentecostal home and then experience the struggle of giving up that faith. She takes us through her childhood, her later years as a questioning college student, and finally finding her own place. Wilbanks writes very well and the book is easy to read.
I received a complimentary egally of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.
The part of the book I appreciated the most was her experience in Nigeria. She had come across the Redeemed Church in east Texas. Its origins were in Nigeria so she managed to do research there for her thesis. I really liked her information about Christianity in southern Nigeria. I learned a great deal, such as about Helen Ukpabio and supposed children witches. Another part of her book quite informative was her investigation into the history of Pentecostalism in America.
I recommend this book to readers who would like to know what it was like to grow up in a Pentecostal home and then experience the struggle of giving up that faith. She takes us through her childhood, her later years as a questioning college student, and finally finding her own place. Wilbanks writes very well and the book is easy to read.
I received a complimentary egally of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.
April 5, 2019
Wilbanks is a strong writer, and draws an evocative picture of her subject with words. I was more fascinated by the first half of the book and felt like she skimmed over some topics (e.g., the vague mentions of her father's emotional outbursts, the transition between eating disorder and grad school). I can understand that those stories weren't always hers to tell, but the narrative would have been better for it.
Also, can we just put and end to the whole "white woman goes to the Global South to deal with her shit" genre?
Also, can we just put and end to the whole "white woman goes to the Global South to deal with her shit" genre?
November 25, 2018
Great memoir but sad that her experience of the church was such that she has lost any faith.
January 26, 2019
This book is a journey. Beautiful but straightforward prose about what it means to carefully unravel faith from your life only to go chasing it as an adult.
May 6, 2022
I enjoyed this story. The author did some powerful soul searching to see why she fell away from her Pentecostal faith. It was really about seeing where her faith went to and , the big question - why did it go?
I can see why she thought she lost something - reminiscing about the past and the experiences you had always has that wonderful warm glow and rose hued ambiance. But it doesn't mean it was all wonderful - nor all awful. It was just ..... different.
Starting to see the world in your own eyes, for your own truth, is a truth like no other. It makes you realize that you can still operate on the tenets of religion (as all the major ones have roughly the same ones) as you navigate your life. I think Jessica Wilbanks summed it up perfectly when she remembered what her father said:
Life wasn't as black and white as the Paster made it out to be, that not all sins necessarily had the Devil behind them ...... life was messy, and it wasn't always possible to be pure ......so not to judge so harshly for some of the things that were done. .
Unfortunately, the manic race of many faiths to follow the religious tenets to the letter of the law often makes those people very judgemental. Often making them a very shallow version of what a person in faith should be. When you're out of the umbrella of the 'church' or organization, following the tenets is a very effective and positive way to live your life. You understand that all things are sacred - people, races, things and it's a very strong moral compass on how you interact with them. I love the idea of being together with others to celebrate a faith - it's a wonderful feeling - but all to often I realize that I don't always like the people for how they see themselves as better than others for the sheer act of attending rather than actually how they respond to others. I've made an active choice not to attend services of any kind - for the most part. Truly, a higher power will hear your voice anywhere and at any time, where the need arises for it to be heard. I've seen where the church often harms more than it helps, although there's always exceptions to the rule.
I think living your life with awareness and love will allow you to follow most of the tenets of any religion and the occasional stumble is to be expected, as long as you are willing to see it for what it is. The important thing is not to be blind.
Wonderfully written book and I recommend it.
I can see why she thought she lost something - reminiscing about the past and the experiences you had always has that wonderful warm glow and rose hued ambiance. But it doesn't mean it was all wonderful - nor all awful. It was just ..... different.
Starting to see the world in your own eyes, for your own truth, is a truth like no other. It makes you realize that you can still operate on the tenets of religion (as all the major ones have roughly the same ones) as you navigate your life. I think Jessica Wilbanks summed it up perfectly when she remembered what her father said:
Life wasn't as black and white as the Paster made it out to be, that not all sins necessarily had the Devil behind them ...... life was messy, and it wasn't always possible to be pure ......so not to judge so harshly for some of the things that were done. .
Unfortunately, the manic race of many faiths to follow the religious tenets to the letter of the law often makes those people very judgemental. Often making them a very shallow version of what a person in faith should be. When you're out of the umbrella of the 'church' or organization, following the tenets is a very effective and positive way to live your life. You understand that all things are sacred - people, races, things and it's a very strong moral compass on how you interact with them. I love the idea of being together with others to celebrate a faith - it's a wonderful feeling - but all to often I realize that I don't always like the people for how they see themselves as better than others for the sheer act of attending rather than actually how they respond to others. I've made an active choice not to attend services of any kind - for the most part. Truly, a higher power will hear your voice anywhere and at any time, where the need arises for it to be heard. I've seen where the church often harms more than it helps, although there's always exceptions to the rule.
I think living your life with awareness and love will allow you to follow most of the tenets of any religion and the occasional stumble is to be expected, as long as you are willing to see it for what it is. The important thing is not to be blind.
Wonderfully written book and I recommend it.
August 29, 2019
Jessica Wilbanks grew up in a poor, working class area of southern Maryland. Her father was a bricklayer and her mother stayed home with Jessica and her brothers. Their family struggled financially and moved from rental house to rental house. They were also very involved in a small, Pentecostal church. Their church valued speaking in tongues which they believed was an outward sign of God's blessing on your life. Jessica received this gift when she was 11 shortly after she was baptized, but just two years later she would inwardly renounce her faith. As a teenager she began to rebel and looked forward to graduating from high school and getting out of her claustrophobic home and small town. In college she cemented her disbelief and rarely even spoke about her childhood church experiences. But, in graduate school she started researching the roots of the Pentecostal faith and was drawn to visit Nigeria where the Pentecostal church is growing by leaps and bounds. In the end she never returns to the faith of her childhood, but is able to make peace with it and with her family.
I wasn't sure what to expect with this book, but I was not expecting the majority of it to take place and focus on Nigeria. I know this was Jessica's path to working through her own faith issues, but it seemed more about Nigerian Pentecostalism and less about her. The first half also ends on a very odd note of her being checked into a treatment facility for anorexia - which was never even hinted at before that chapter. I felt like a lot of her personal story was somewhat glossed over. I really didn't enjoy the book and had to make myself finish the second half.
A quote I liked:
"The faith that did so much good for the people of Nigeria seemed to be behind so many wrongs as well. The very pastors who greeted me so warmly after church services were the same ones who were spreading the idea that people could be possessed by witches. There didn't seem any way that I'd be able to follow all the tangled threads within the history of the church and find some pure kernel of good or evil underneath it all." (p. 219)
I wasn't sure what to expect with this book, but I was not expecting the majority of it to take place and focus on Nigeria. I know this was Jessica's path to working through her own faith issues, but it seemed more about Nigerian Pentecostalism and less about her. The first half also ends on a very odd note of her being checked into a treatment facility for anorexia - which was never even hinted at before that chapter. I felt like a lot of her personal story was somewhat glossed over. I really didn't enjoy the book and had to make myself finish the second half.
A quote I liked:
"The faith that did so much good for the people of Nigeria seemed to be behind so many wrongs as well. The very pastors who greeted me so warmly after church services were the same ones who were spreading the idea that people could be possessed by witches. There didn't seem any way that I'd be able to follow all the tangled threads within the history of the church and find some pure kernel of good or evil underneath it all." (p. 219)
August 21, 2019
Synopsis: Jessica Wilbanks memoir on her exploration of faith and leaving behind the strict religious upbringing of her past. As she struggles with her faith she digs into the roots of her childhood religion and finds both wonderful and terrible things there.
My Rating:
4/5
This book is near and dear to my heart. I have gone on my own religious journey so I can empathize with Jessica and her struggles with growing up in a conservative faith that is a huge part of her life and then beginning to question that faith and it's pillars.
I was drawn in from the beginning to Jessica's struggles. It was interesting to see the pivotal role her religion played in her upbringing and the hardships she faced as she began to question that faith. I really loved the insight she gives into her family relationships as her beliefs waiver. Leaving a childhood faith takes courage and is not easy to do no matter what that faith is. There are also relational consequences because those who remain in the faith often can't understand those that left. There is a very touching scene in this book where Jessica struggles with those things particularly in regards to her brother.
Jessica does a great job at exploring why faith is so important to many people and particularly what it brought to her family which was suffering from poverty. She does a great job of understanding why her family and friends need their religion and what purpose it serves them while also exploring why it isn't for her.
Later in the book she wants to learn more about her faith's roots. Jessica's faith is practiced in Nigeria so she goes there. One of the things she finds is that some children in Nigeria are abandoned because it is believed they are witches. I found that part of her travels interesting though this section of the book was a bit slow for me and not as engaging as her youth and family experiences of growing up in the faith.
If you have ever left a conservative religion I believe you will really relate to this book and Jessica's struggles and so I recommend it.
My Rating:
4/5
This book is near and dear to my heart. I have gone on my own religious journey so I can empathize with Jessica and her struggles with growing up in a conservative faith that is a huge part of her life and then beginning to question that faith and it's pillars.
I was drawn in from the beginning to Jessica's struggles. It was interesting to see the pivotal role her religion played in her upbringing and the hardships she faced as she began to question that faith. I really loved the insight she gives into her family relationships as her beliefs waiver. Leaving a childhood faith takes courage and is not easy to do no matter what that faith is. There are also relational consequences because those who remain in the faith often can't understand those that left. There is a very touching scene in this book where Jessica struggles with those things particularly in regards to her brother.
Jessica does a great job at exploring why faith is so important to many people and particularly what it brought to her family which was suffering from poverty. She does a great job of understanding why her family and friends need their religion and what purpose it serves them while also exploring why it isn't for her.
Later in the book she wants to learn more about her faith's roots. Jessica's faith is practiced in Nigeria so she goes there. One of the things she finds is that some children in Nigeria are abandoned because it is believed they are witches. I found that part of her travels interesting though this section of the book was a bit slow for me and not as engaging as her youth and family experiences of growing up in the faith.
If you have ever left a conservative religion I believe you will really relate to this book and Jessica's struggles and so I recommend it.
November 3, 2019
Jessica Wilbanks's memoir When I Spoke in Tongues, is a love-letter to the Pentecostal church. However, even a sweet tale of love can still end in divorce. This book deftly moves between Wilbanks's complicated feelings about her childhood experiences with Pentecostalism and the similar forms of that religion as practiced in Nigeria. She also briefly touches on the experiences of Nigerian immigrants to the US.
Even if you didn't grow up in a church that was as enthusiastically "spirit filled" (aka "Pentecostal") as the ones described in this book, there is still plenty for any ex-Christian to relate to in this emotional tale of a woman experiencing loss, doubt, and--for much of the book--a way back to the faith of her childhood. I didn't discover this side of Christianity until college, but many of the emotional states which Wilbanks described resonated with me on a deep level.
In the end Wilbanks does not find a way back to the same type of faith she had as a child attending a strict "spirit-filled" church in the South. But, she does find a way to reconcile with her religious family. In my experience, that process of reconciliation and healing is vital.
Many atheist and secular authors portray deconversion stories as purely liberation events. We were ignorant. Then we became free. We were once blind but now by the "light of reason" we can see (ironically we secular folk often parrot the same type of religious language we mock). I feel that the struggles and mixed emotions Wilbanks describes in her memoir probably more true-to-life for the majority of ex-Christians and ex-religious people in America. Yes, there is freedom, but there is also a lot of doubt about our doubt. I for one am glad that Wilbanks is willing to take us along with her as she wrestles with these important, deeply held feelings. Coming out of a religion which is highly demanding, is a challenging process. The fact that that religion makes truth claims which seem outlandish and bizarre to outsiders does not change that fact.
Even if you didn't grow up in a church that was as enthusiastically "spirit filled" (aka "Pentecostal") as the ones described in this book, there is still plenty for any ex-Christian to relate to in this emotional tale of a woman experiencing loss, doubt, and--for much of the book--a way back to the faith of her childhood. I didn't discover this side of Christianity until college, but many of the emotional states which Wilbanks described resonated with me on a deep level.
In the end Wilbanks does not find a way back to the same type of faith she had as a child attending a strict "spirit-filled" church in the South. But, she does find a way to reconcile with her religious family. In my experience, that process of reconciliation and healing is vital.
Many atheist and secular authors portray deconversion stories as purely liberation events. We were ignorant. Then we became free. We were once blind but now by the "light of reason" we can see (ironically we secular folk often parrot the same type of religious language we mock). I feel that the struggles and mixed emotions Wilbanks describes in her memoir probably more true-to-life for the majority of ex-Christians and ex-religious people in America. Yes, there is freedom, but there is also a lot of doubt about our doubt. I for one am glad that Wilbanks is willing to take us along with her as she wrestles with these important, deeply held feelings. Coming out of a religion which is highly demanding, is a challenging process. The fact that that religion makes truth claims which seem outlandish and bizarre to outsiders does not change that fact.
February 10, 2021
As someone who grew up in church but left my faith behind as an adult, this book resonated deep in my spirit. The way the author talks about the fear and anxiety Pentecostalism can awaken, especially in a child, is chilling. The fear of damnation if you deviate from the path. The fear of ostracization if you don’t follow the teachings exactly or if the church finds out that you love someone they deem sinful or have habits they see as evil. Wilbanks does not shy away from the evil that churches bring with them. The torture of children in the name of banishing spirits and the incomprehensible way the church can convince the poor that the only way to live a comfortable life is to give them money you don’t have to spare as a tithe.
On the other side though, the author isn’t afraid to speak of how deeply you can still long for that sense of belonging and peace that you may have once found in a religious following. The way you can miss raising your voice in praise and worship with people who have the same strong beliefs as you. The way it can feel almost too easy to be swept back into it even after you’ve abandoned that faith.
This is an excellent book about struggling with faith, its loss and origin, and connecting with people even through difference of belief.
On the other side though, the author isn’t afraid to speak of how deeply you can still long for that sense of belonging and peace that you may have once found in a religious following. The way you can miss raising your voice in praise and worship with people who have the same strong beliefs as you. The way it can feel almost too easy to be swept back into it even after you’ve abandoned that faith.
This is an excellent book about struggling with faith, its loss and origin, and connecting with people even through difference of belief.
October 29, 2020
The author's childhood is deeply shaped by her church-like, attending several times a week levels of churchgoing-and when she realizes that she no longer believes as a teenager, she feels lost. The book chronicles her young adulthood of grappling with the church she grew up with and what it means for her to not believe.
The story is personal and intimately told. My heart ached for the author, who is so intently looking for some kind of answer and coming up short every time. By the end she seemed to find some acceptance, and it came as a relief.
One question that I wish the book had explored a bit more is the question of class. The author grew up poor and attended private high schools and colleges on a scholarship. I think her feeling of adrift-ness and isolation had a lot to do with feeling out of place, but she doesn't get too deeply into that experience. Later, when she visits Nigeria to study Nigerian Pentecostalism, class and poverty seem like an important lens, but she doesn't reflect very deeply on it.
The story is personal and intimately told. My heart ached for the author, who is so intently looking for some kind of answer and coming up short every time. By the end she seemed to find some acceptance, and it came as a relief.
One question that I wish the book had explored a bit more is the question of class. The author grew up poor and attended private high schools and colleges on a scholarship. I think her feeling of adrift-ness and isolation had a lot to do with feeling out of place, but she doesn't get too deeply into that experience. Later, when she visits Nigeria to study Nigerian Pentecostalism, class and poverty seem like an important lens, but she doesn't reflect very deeply on it.
June 17, 2020
I heard the author interviewed on NPR and found her very interesting, and I added this book to my reading list. Unfortunately, I just couldn't stick with it. At about 25% done I looked it up on GoodReads to see if others had also struggled, but the ratings were quite high, so I kept on. I made it to 30% and just gave up. The book is extremely well-written and the author/narrator is likable and relatable. Her story is one that many people may be able to relate to more closely than I can, and I think that was the issue. I just wasn't interested in this particular story, as much as I thought I would have been. It doesn't surprise me that many people will like the book, though, and keep going. For all I know, I missed the best parts.
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