A Gospel With No Commandments

Sigurd Bratlie’s imprisonment for speaking at a Christian house meeting in Iraq in 1978 also plays a role in this story. During Bratlie’s five-month absence, Ole Kristiansen and Olaf Bekkevold collected a number of “religious songs” and pub­lished a songbook that was neither “fish nor fowl”—it was just a mishmash. They had to print it in their own publishing house, because Aksel J. Smith was opposed to the book. When Sigurd Bratlie saw it after his release from prison, he didn’t want it to be used at all in the church, but recom­mended that everyone burn their copy. At a youth conference in October 1989, Sigurd Bratlie began by asking ten young brothers to say something about their heavenly calling. After that, he had three sisters come up and sing one of the songs from this book: “I Need Your Fullness, O Jesus.” The whole thing was an object lesson to show the difference between the fight of faith and a gospel without any conditions.

After that, Sigurd Bratlie spoke about a message that Ole Kristiansen had given many years earlier, in which he had read from Psalm 126:5-6: “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. He who continually goes forth weeping, bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bring­ing his sheaves with him.” With a memory like an elephant, Bratlie asked Ole Kristiansen to come forward and continue the message. He stepped forward somewhat reluctantly and said something about how this had indeed become so living for him when the children were young, and so on. But what quickly became apparent for the entire assembly that October day in 1989 was that the time of sowing in tears had gradually slipped into the background for Ole Kristiansen. The point that Sigurd Bratlie was making was that there is—and always will be—a battle with tears, so that we can come to the rejoic­ing. Another point of interest to Sigurd Bratlie was the fact that Ole Kristiansen’s current problem was, ironically, his children. They had adopted a new doctrine, and their father was having difficulty distancing himself from it. If there ever had been a time to sow with tears, it was right then—in what were to become fateful hours for him and his family.

During the autumn and winter of 1989–1990, I had several conversations with Ole Kristiansen and his sons. Sometimes we were alone and other times with Sigurd Bratlie. Ole Kristiansen had confidence in me, and our conversations were many and constructive. His children had quite clearly confused his understanding of the true gospel. He dithered back and forth and was unable to take a clear stand for the one and against the other. On one occasion, when I was trying to help him see what was correct according to God’s Word, he leaned against my shoulder and said, weeping, “You are so good to me, Kåre!”

I also had quite a few conversations with Kristiansen’s chil­dren to try to enlighten and guide them. At a religious assem­bly, I had heard a preacher use this example as a picture of salvation. I repeated it to give an example of the wrong under­standing: “If you catch the train from Oslo to Trondheim, it doesn’t really matter what you do on the trip itself. You can sleep, eat, walk around or keep yourself busy in some other way. You will arrive in Trondheim anyway, and nothing that you do will have any influence on how quickly you get to the station.” The answer I received from his children was that this was a very good example of what salvation actually was.

Ole Kristiansen received many exhortations and opportu­nities. In the end he chose to side with his children’s under­standing of the gospel. However, his children, unlike their fa­ther, were quite rude to us, and the last time I attended a meeting in Drøbak, several of the children screamed words of abuse at me and Sigurd Bratlie.

In many ways, Ole Kristiansen’s life came to a tragic end. He was a family man above all else, but, sadly, he sacrificed his future in the church on the altar of his children. The Kristiansen family in general—and Ole in particular—had a great love of children, and I had many good memories of be­ing together with them. His end was a very heavy experience for me, because I was very fond of him and had worked hard to keep them all in the church.

Olaf Bekkevold also ended up getting drawn into the mat­ter. Sigurd Bratlie had dug up some more of Ole Kristiansen’s messages. Some of the youth in Oslo were teaching them­selves English and had listened to an old cassette on which Ole Kristiansen and Olaf Bekkevold had spoken at a confer­ence in the USA. The unusual thing about this tape was that Ole Kristiansen—as early as 1983—presented a gospel with no commandments to the friends on America’s west coast. Olaf Bekkevold spoke after Ole Kristiansen, and rather than supplying what was lacking in his message, he simply contin­ued with the same, incorrect preaching. When Sigurd Bratlie heard this cassette, it was very clear to him that it was more than just a small departure in their understanding of the gos­pel. At a gathering of all the elder brothers in the summer of 1990, he had everyone listen to both messages, after which he analyzed and assessed them. Of the two, it was most damag­ing for Olaf Bekkevold.

On September 12, 1990, Sigurd J. Bratlie and I were ap­pointed as members of the board of Den Kristelige Menighet. This was the central board for the church that was established in 1956 when the brothers purchased Brunstad Conference Center. The original members were Elias Aslaksen, Sigurd Bratlie and Aksel J. Smith. After Aslaksen’s death, William Gilbu was appointed as a regular member, and after his death, Bernt Stadven was appointed to the board. At the time when Sigurd J. Bratlie and I were appointed, the membership in­creased from three to five. I wasn’t really so interested in this and thought they should find someone else. I had already been a member of the council of elder brothers for many years, because of my activity around the world, and I had more than enough to do. But Sigurd Bratlie insisted, so in the end I agreed to join the board. Many probably understood this to mean that I was on my way in as the new leader of the church.