VOLUME 3 |NUMBER 2 |2012 9
F
or 29 years, I was associated with a Bible-based group
with what I now know are the dynamics of a cult.1 Most of
the pastors from a variety of backgrounds whom I sought
out soon afterward didn’t understand what it meant to
leave a cult, or what my needs were.
My most pressing need, especially in light of my wife and
two children staying in the group, was a caring,
understanding ear so that I could talk. I needed to
reevaluate everything in my life, spiritual and otherwise.
It took me several years before I was confident that I had
left the group for the right motives and had done the right
thing before God. The group had planted in me the concept
that there was something intrinsically wrong with anyone
who left—some kind of character deficiency they saw and
I couldn’t. I feared that after a time God would lower the
boom, and then I would have to humble myself, repent,
and return. It was hard to grasp that God actually could
be helping me to leave.
It was also a challenge to find a new place to worship,
since I was gun-shy and was hurting to share with someone
who comprehended my agony and my need to reevaluate
every last one of my beliefs about Christianity. I would go
into a church service to try it out, and find that people
were so wrapped up in their own routine that no one in
the congregation even stopped to talk to find out why
I was there. That experience was hard when I so needed
support from somewhere.
My goal isn’t to be hard on pastors, but I hope to convey
what I sense even 10 years after having left. If pastors and
churches truly want to help former cult members recover,
they need some basic knowledge of what is involved in
recovery.
Because I found little help in the church, my only resource
was a number listed in the Yellow Pages to call for help if
one had left a cult. My main support early in recovery was
to read books on cults—lots of them, twenty or more over
several years. A breakthrough came when, 4 years after I
had left the group, I attended the Wellspring Retreat and
Resource Center. Finally, several years ago, I met the first
pastor, from our local Presbyterian church, who had a
good understanding of controlling people and cults.
That experience has been a great asset in continuing my
growth, even after 10 years out. My wife and two children
are still in, and it looks like they will be there for life—as
I so well taught them when I was a leader there.
This is my basic story as I present it at local college psychology
and sociology courses, and to our Presbyterian Youth Group:
About forty years ago, as a young adult not much older
than you, I started college to earn an associate’s degree.
My faith was sincere I wanted all of God I could get.
During my first semester, I met Al, at the time a pastor
of a well-respected denomination. I remember a question
quietly passing through my mind: “How do you know you
can trust this man?”That question was a warning from
within, but I didn’t recognize it.
Early in my second year of school, I met Linda. Our spiritual
common ground brought us together. We met on a
secluded stairwell in one of our college buildings to pray
and sing Christian songs together. About a year later, Pastor
Al married us. Our intent was to better serve God together
as a team. Al informed us during premarital counseling
that he and his group wanted to pay for our wedding and
reception. Having an offer this good from those we had
known only a year or two put the finishing touches on my
considering Al my real father, and the group my true family
and real friends.
As a pastor, Al began straying from the norm. His digression
divided his church, and eventually his congregation asked
him to leave. Al’s conclusions about why this was
happening were that
1. People were not willing to “go all the way with God.” They
just wanted to be “Sunday Christians.”
2. God wanted Al to leave his denomination in order to start
his own church.
In order to start his own church, Al had to work a regular
9-to-5 job for a time. This commitment appeared to me to
be the ultimate dedication and sacrifice, and it inspired me
to want to be just like Pastor Al.
I shared with Al my growing belief that God was calling me
to be a full-time minister, which of course meant attending
a seminary. Although he was a graduate of a well-known
and prestigious seminary, Al said, “All that seminaries do is fill
your mind with useless knowledge. He continued, “I believe
on-the-job training is not only a better use of your time, but
faster. With on-the-job training, you will learn practical
things with which you will actually be able to help people.”
“We train our leaders on the job,” he said. “Since our group
is incorporated in New York State, we can legally ordain our
own ministers.”This sounded like a shortcut coming from
God. I felt privileged that Al was letting me in on this little-
known secret and implied his willingness to train me himself.
During our first 2 years of marriage, as Linda and I were
looking for a church to call home in the town where we
lived, Al kept in touch to invite us to his home town to
attend special spiritual events. Then he completely took
me by surprise when he approached us about making a
commitment to his group. At first, his invitation struck me as
somehow strange: With all the churches within a hundred-
mile range of our town and his, there wasn’t even one good
one closer to home? I also knew it would be hard to explain
to my parents and even other Christians that we would be
driving two and a half hours each way to attend worship.
That just wasn’t normal. At the same time, we wanted
whatever God wanted. We concluded that God must be
requiring this of us for some unknown reason, and He
wouldbe pleased by our sacrifice and would someday
reward us for it.
Soon, Al approached us again. This time it was about
pioneering a church in our home. We would meet in our
apartment on the alternate Sundays when we weren’t
traveling to his town. It seemed obvious at the time that
F
or 29 years, I was associated with a Bible-based group
with what I now know are the dynamics of a cult.1 Most of
the pastors from a variety of backgrounds whom I sought
out soon afterward didn’t understand what it meant to
leave a cult, or what my needs were.
My most pressing need, especially in light of my wife and
two children staying in the group, was a caring,
understanding ear so that I could talk. I needed to
reevaluate everything in my life, spiritual and otherwise.
It took me several years before I was confident that I had
left the group for the right motives and had done the right
thing before God. The group had planted in me the concept
that there was something intrinsically wrong with anyone
who left—some kind of character deficiency they saw and
I couldn’t. I feared that after a time God would lower the
boom, and then I would have to humble myself, repent,
and return. It was hard to grasp that God actually could
be helping me to leave.
It was also a challenge to find a new place to worship,
since I was gun-shy and was hurting to share with someone
who comprehended my agony and my need to reevaluate
every last one of my beliefs about Christianity. I would go
into a church service to try it out, and find that people
were so wrapped up in their own routine that no one in
the congregation even stopped to talk to find out why
I was there. That experience was hard when I so needed
support from somewhere.
My goal isn’t to be hard on pastors, but I hope to convey
what I sense even 10 years after having left. If pastors and
churches truly want to help former cult members recover,
they need some basic knowledge of what is involved in
recovery.
Because I found little help in the church, my only resource
was a number listed in the Yellow Pages to call for help if
one had left a cult. My main support early in recovery was
to read books on cults—lots of them, twenty or more over
several years. A breakthrough came when, 4 years after I
had left the group, I attended the Wellspring Retreat and
Resource Center. Finally, several years ago, I met the first
pastor, from our local Presbyterian church, who had a
good understanding of controlling people and cults.
That experience has been a great asset in continuing my
growth, even after 10 years out. My wife and two children
are still in, and it looks like they will be there for life—as
I so well taught them when I was a leader there.
This is my basic story as I present it at local college psychology
and sociology courses, and to our Presbyterian Youth Group:
About forty years ago, as a young adult not much older
than you, I started college to earn an associate’s degree.
My faith was sincere I wanted all of God I could get.
During my first semester, I met Al, at the time a pastor
of a well-respected denomination. I remember a question
quietly passing through my mind: “How do you know you
can trust this man?”That question was a warning from
within, but I didn’t recognize it.
Early in my second year of school, I met Linda. Our spiritual
common ground brought us together. We met on a
secluded stairwell in one of our college buildings to pray
and sing Christian songs together. About a year later, Pastor
Al married us. Our intent was to better serve God together
as a team. Al informed us during premarital counseling
that he and his group wanted to pay for our wedding and
reception. Having an offer this good from those we had
known only a year or two put the finishing touches on my
considering Al my real father, and the group my true family
and real friends.
As a pastor, Al began straying from the norm. His digression
divided his church, and eventually his congregation asked
him to leave. Al’s conclusions about why this was
happening were that
1. People were not willing to “go all the way with God.” They
just wanted to be “Sunday Christians.”
2. God wanted Al to leave his denomination in order to start
his own church.
In order to start his own church, Al had to work a regular
9-to-5 job for a time. This commitment appeared to me to
be the ultimate dedication and sacrifice, and it inspired me
to want to be just like Pastor Al.
I shared with Al my growing belief that God was calling me
to be a full-time minister, which of course meant attending
a seminary. Although he was a graduate of a well-known
and prestigious seminary, Al said, “All that seminaries do is fill
your mind with useless knowledge. He continued, “I believe
on-the-job training is not only a better use of your time, but
faster. With on-the-job training, you will learn practical
things with which you will actually be able to help people.”
“We train our leaders on the job,” he said. “Since our group
is incorporated in New York State, we can legally ordain our
own ministers.”This sounded like a shortcut coming from
God. I felt privileged that Al was letting me in on this little-
known secret and implied his willingness to train me himself.
During our first 2 years of marriage, as Linda and I were
looking for a church to call home in the town where we
lived, Al kept in touch to invite us to his home town to
attend special spiritual events. Then he completely took
me by surprise when he approached us about making a
commitment to his group. At first, his invitation struck me as
somehow strange: With all the churches within a hundred-
mile range of our town and his, there wasn’t even one good
one closer to home? I also knew it would be hard to explain
to my parents and even other Christians that we would be
driving two and a half hours each way to attend worship.
That just wasn’t normal. At the same time, we wanted
whatever God wanted. We concluded that God must be
requiring this of us for some unknown reason, and He
wouldbe pleased by our sacrifice and would someday
reward us for it.
Soon, Al approached us again. This time it was about
pioneering a church in our home. We would meet in our
apartment on the alternate Sundays when we weren’t
traveling to his town. It seemed obvious at the time that
