Seeking: Life Along The Way [Part 1]

It's no secret that I was involved for 28 years with an organization that is typically considered a 'cult,' though I prefer the term 'abusive religious organization.' I got involved in September, 1977, at the age of 18 and exited in October, 2005, at the age of 46.

Because of length I divided the story into three blog posts. Though the account is lengthy, it is only a glimpse (of course) into experiences.

It is not my intention to attack The Way International or other religions/beliefs. Yet, I hope this account gives a glimpse of (1) some of the reasons folks join 'cults' or similar groups and (2) some consequences that authoritarian/elitist groups can have.

The journey is always in process of course.

Each person has a journey; each journey is significant.

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Part 2 of 3: Part II
Part 3 of 3: Part III
The story as a whole can be found here:
Of Psychological/Religious/Cultic Abuse
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Seeking: Life Along The Way [Part I]

I wasn't raised with a specific church doctrine, but my family attended a Methodist Church and a Methodist camp meeting with some regularity in my younger years. From about age 8 years old and into my teen years I was fascinated with the supernatural reading books on UFOs, playing with Ouija boards, intrigued by witchcraft, and dabbling with astrology. I attended some sort of Baptist revival with a friend when I was maybe 10; I remember going up for the altar call. I recall seeing the movie about Nicky Cruise sometime in my preteen or teen years. Around 12 years old, I attended a Methodist confirmation but to my recollection never completed the requirements.

Around 13 years old, I read the four gospels and concluded that Jesus Christ was the biggest egomaniac that ever walked. However, I did like the poetic flow of the gospel of John. In the Old Testament I read about a vengeful God who annihilated people. Of the folks I talked with about the Bible, no one could explain to me apparent contradictions. I could argue most Bible believers into a corner, and for some reason I enjoyed it. Understandably I rejected the Bible as an ultimate authority but thought it contained some truth alongside other religions.

Also at 13 years of age I fell in love for the first time and gave my whole self, body and soul. I craved attention and touch, to be wanted, and to please. I was involved with 4 such all-encompassing relationships between the ages of 13 and 18. In the second of these relationships, I was a recipient of physical abuse. I ended that relationship after about one year which coincided with the final hitting session; that time I fought back. At the time, I did not reveal the physical abuse to anyone; I was embarrassed and didn't want people to think badly of him or me. He was a jock 4 years older than I; I was a cheerleader. I decided then to switch peer groups and became friends with the "freaks."

At 15 years of age I got heavily into marijuana and, shortly thereafter, psychedelic drugs. I began dating and became romantically involved with one of the main high school drug dealers; we were never in short supply of mind-altering substances. Being intrigued with the supernatural, I felt the trips on psychedelics connected me with the spiritual realm. During this experimental phase I overdosed on datura stramonium, a four-day sleepless nightmare filled with hellish hallucinations while strapped to a bed in ICU; my boyfriend was restrained with a straight jacket. Yet, even after the stramonium, I continued experimentation with various kinds of hallucinogens seeking spiritual oneness through LSD, windowpane, blotter acid, mescaline, MDA, and a few other drugs. As the months passed, I became more and more paranoid and withdrawn. The trips began to turn bad and the feeling of tripping lingered even without having dropped any acid. Needless to say I had many thoughts of insanity. My saving thought was, If I was insane I wouldn't know it. I quit drugs about 9 months after the stramonium incident.

At that point, in desperation for my sanity, I turned to Transcendental Meditation and got 100% involved volunteering at the TM Center, assisting with classes and initiations, and planning to attend the Maharishi University in Iowa. Within 8 months of starting TM I broke the relationship with my dealer boyfriend. He got busted within a couple months after our breakup.

After a little over 1 year into TM, I met (my next) boyfriend (5 years older than I) and moved in with him the summer before my senior year of high school. He was faithfully involved with a small Baptist Church; yet he smoked dope on an almost daily basis and we cohabitated "living in sin" for 10+ months. Because I wanted to please him I dropped my involvement with TM and decided I'd try to believe the Baptist doctrine which was difficult for me, especially the hellfire teachings. Almost every Sunday I found myself at the altar in tears of shame wondering if I was "saved." We had wedding plans for a few weeks after I graduated from high school, but I broke the engagement. I couldn't come to terms with belief in a God of damnation. I was also struggling with mood swings, depression, and feelings of low self-worth.

[Some may wonder about parental guidance through these years. I didn't have many boundaries while growing up, and apparently issues regarding abandonment/neglect became ingrained in my psyche. Mom spent extended time as an in-patient in the 1960's (and in later life) for manic depression. Dad was challenged with anger issues, possibly as a result from a brain injury due to a serious car wreck prior to starting the family. (I am the youngest of three children.) From my mid-elementary years and up I was a latch-key kid. Looking back, I of course see that those circumstances influenced choices that I made; emotional responses I felt/buried; and my seeking elsewhere to fill certain unmet physical, emotional, and familial needs. Yet there were also great times spent freely exploring nature and life. Like most of humanity, my parents were good people that went through some hard times handling life as best they could.]

Shortly after the split from my fiance I moved onto a farm with some hippie types who had moved to the North Carolina mountains from New York. I felt driven to find "the truth," to discover God, to find my way "back to the garden." I dabbled with TM (again), Ram Dass, yoga, and the Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ. I visited a cousin with the intent purpose to go to a WICCA meeting. He ended up having to work so I ended up spending the day with my aunt with whom I attended a Charismatic fellowship. At that meeting I heard speaking in tongues for the first time. That day I was led into tongues and began to see another side to the scriptures. Upon return to the farm I told all my yoga hippie friends that they didn't have to do all that meditation to be one with God; just believe on Jesus Christ and speak in tongues. I became engrossed in the scriptures, trying to understand and craving to comprehend the "breadth and length and depth and height," "to know the love of Christ," and to be "filled with all the fullness of God."

I began reading and rereading Acts and the Pauline epistles, mainly Ephesians through Colossians. I drove over an hour one way to attend church services where I had been led into tongues. The message at this church was different from what I'd been exposed to at the Baptist Church. The theme was love, grace, mercy, and understanding; not to mention they had good music! I was full of questions and wanted to understand the Bible, to be able to reconcile at least a majority of the contradictions. I decided to attend college focusing on biblical studies and counseling. I also had an interest in service work with either VISTA or The Peace Corps.

I chose a college that had "spirit-filled" connections, Montreat Anderson near Black Mtn., NC, in the heart of Billy Graham country. During my few months at Montreat, I attended Montreat's Presbyterian Church services along with various flavors of Charismatic meetings in the local vicinity. However, the same insecurity and shame that I experienced in the Baptist Church again haunted me. I couldn't seem to find satisfactory answers to my questions nor a remedy for my shame.

I became friends with some students on campus who were considered to be spiritually mature. We met regularly for prayer meetings. Talk went on qualifying who was spiritual enough to be allowed at these assemblies. Looking back, these meetings mainly served to achieve an emotional high with some participants being slain in the spirit and speaking in tongues in an uncontrollable manner. During one of these sessions I had to leave because I felt like I was tripping; I felt paranoid and dirty. I don't think I went to any more prayer sessions after that one.

On one occasion Ruth Graham visited the campus. I attended a small gathering with about 20 young ladies and Mrs. Graham. We met in an informal living room setting, attired with a few upholstered chairs for seating and the rest of us on the floor. It was very comfortable. I asked Mrs. Graham questions regarding speaking in tongues and the holy spirit field. Her answer was that she simply didn't know the answers. I thought to myself, If Ruth Graham doesn't know, who does? Around this time is when I found The Way.

Friends from the prayer group at college warned me that The Way was a cult. I considered their words and read about The Way in cult literature. It appeared to me that those who claimed The Way was a cult, based that conclusion mainly on the fact that The Way did not believe in the traditional doctrine of the trinity. Until shortly after starting college I never realized that Christians believed that Jesus was God. At that time I was stunned that anyone would think such a thing, that a man could be God. Therefore the main thrust of The Way being a cult because it was non-trinitarian didn't concern me, much.

Fellowship meetings with The Way were tender and welcoming and didn't involve the frenzied spirit-filled confusion I was experiencing at some of the Charismatic gatherings. At Way fellowships I witnessed what I had read in sections of Acts and the Pauline epistles: all things common, decent and in order, fruit of the spirit, greeting with a holy kiss, etc. I enrolled and took The Way's Foundational/Intermediate class. For once I was getting answers to many of the questions that plagued me. I learned that I was righteous before God and that I had "sonship rights." I began to "retemorize" King James scriptures, repeating them over and over in my mind convincing my self of "the truth." I was finally learning God's will for my life.

In my college Old Testament History class I wrote an answer in response to an essay question on a test asking to compare Old Testament faith with New Testament faith. My essay was based on research from The Way. I received an A+ on that essay with a note from my professor, "Excellent research. I have questions about some of your findings." Having been warned The Way was a cult, I felt uncomfortable approaching the professor on the matter.

The same friends who warned me about The Way subjected me to a type of interrogation with an emphasis on the trinity. I was seated in a classroom. About five of them were standing with one at the chalkboard writing. Their examination included questions, authoritarian proclamations, and accusations regarding The Way and its "devilish doctrines." I recall a couple of them raising their voices at me, I think in an attempt to wake me from what they considered my delusion and to save me from the "cult." I felt attacked, cross-examined, and fearful.

Not long after that incident my college roommate exhibited mental illness and was found in the parking lot trying to pick up sparkling diamonds out of the pavement. She had also recently begun using the window instead of the door to exit and enter our college dorm room. The same friends who led the prayer group and who had interrogated me, blamed me for tainting my roommate and causing her to get "possessed with demons," all because I was attending a Way class and fellowships. I was the only student at Montreat involved with The Way.

These were the people warning me that The Way was a cult? I guess it takes one to know one. Jesting aside, I want to believe these friends' intentions were good. But their approach, for obvious reasons, sent me running in the other direction. I finished my first semester at Montreat and then dropped college to study and serve with The Way.
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Part 2 of 3: Part II
Part 3 of 3: Part III
The story as a whole can be found here:
Of Psychological/Religious/Cultic Abuse
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