Why would anyone join a cult: Scene Six

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To read Scene One, click here.

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Why would anyone join a cult?
Final Scene: Six

I enrolled in The Way's Power for Abundant Living Foundational and Intermediate classes which, at that time, were combined as one class. The fee at the time was $100; a one-time, non-refundable "donation" paid to The Way International. New students had to attend every session and arrive on time; there were no make-up sessions. If a new student was late or missed a session, she would have to drop that class but would be able to attend the next class starting over at the beginning. Once a student completed the class, she could take it as many times as desired without further payment.

I drove a three-hour round trip, from Montreat to Hickory, to attend the fifteen three-hour audio sessions. The class was held in an apartment on a lower level. There were around thirty attendees; most were repeat students. Seven of us were first-timers. I was good friends with two of the new students, Janet and Gretta.

All students sat in folding, metal chairs which were arranged in straight rows; new students sat on the front row. The voice of The Way's founder and first president, Victor Paul Wierwille, with his Ohio accent played through the speakers from cassette tapes while a Way volunteer sat at the front of the class flipping eight-and-half-by-eleven inch sized charts provided by The Way, a visual to illustrate what Wierwille's voice was sharing. New students were not allowed to take notes. We each received a syllabus and Way books authored by Wierwille. We were instructed to write down any questions we had. If the questions were not answered in Wierwille's teachings over the fifteen class sessions, we could present them at the end of class.

I was rivetted by Wierwille's teachings. Finally, I was getting answers to many of the questions that plagued me. Apparent contradictions in the Bible were explained. I learned that scripture "interprets itself in the verse, in the context, and used before." I learned the importance of understanding biblical customs and mannerisms in order to allow the Word to interpret itself, and the importance of the precise usage of Greek and Hebrew words. I learned that I was righteous before God and that I had "sonship rights." I began to "retemorize" King James scripture verses, repeating them over and over and over in my mind, convincing myself of "the truth." I believed with all my heart that I was learning God's will for my life; it was all revealed in His "rightly-divided" Word.

In my college Old Testament History Class I wrote an answer in response to a test essay question asking to compare Old Testament faith with New Testament faith. My essay was based on Wierwille's research. I received an A+ with a handwritten note from my professor, Dr. Newton, "Excellent research. I have questions about some of your findings." Having been warned The Way was a cult, I felt too uncomfortable and insecure to approach him on the matter.

My prayer-group friends were concerned about me and staged a type of intervention. The six of us met in a small classroom. Some of the metal school desks had been arranged in a semi-circle facing the chalkboard. Matt, our group's leader, stood at the chalkboard and opened with prayer which included ridding the room of any demons. I was seated. The others sometimes sat and sometimes stood.

My friends took turns speaking at me, sometimes hollering perhaps in an attempt to wake me from what they considered my delusion, to save me from the "cult." They each tried to convince me that Wierwille was a false prophet. On the chalkboard Matt wrote scripture references trying to prove to me that Jesus is God. But their words, regardless of how loud they declared them, did not match my experiences with The Way nor what I saw as truth from the scriptures. Yet I also knew that the devil comes in sheep's clothing, Was I being deceived by The Way?

I left the room filled with self-doubt and fear, trying to weigh and sort out my different experiences, and asking myself, Was this the love of God?

Not long after the attempted intervention my college roommate, Grace, who suffered with mental illness, was found in the parking lot on her hands and knees trying to pick up "the sparkling diamonds" that twinkled in the pavement. She had also recently begun using the window, instead of the door, to enter and exit our college dorm room. My prayer-group friends blamed me for Grace's state of mind and bizarre behavior. I had tainted Grace 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 The Way was a "cult." Their approach, for obvious reasons, sent me running in the other direction, to The Way, where my spiritual, mental, and emotional hunger was being fed. One of my favorite Twig Fellowship songs was, "I'm so glad I'm a part of the family of God..."

I mailed a handwritten letter to Dr. Wierwille whom I had listened to for over forty hours on audio tape. I shared with him what had happened with my prayer-group friends. I never expected to hear back. But I did. I received a typed letter in an envelope with a return address from "The Teacher" in New Knoxville, Ohio. He commended me for my bold stand and wrote, "When people throw dirt at God's Word, all they do is get their hands dirty."

I finished my first semester at Montreat-Anderson and then dropped out of college to study and serve with The Way. Jesus promised, "Seek and ye shall find." I had found.

I was still eighteen years old.


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Click here to continue to Part 2, Word Over the World: Scene One.