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COLLEGE
STUDENT'S TESTIMONIAL
Marissa Termine, August 2001
This is a letter written by a
woman who was recruited into a Christian Bible-based group called
the ICC (International Churches of Christ) while during fall of
her Freshman Year at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J.
When I began my freshman year in
1997, I pictured a cult in the same way that many people do. I
imagined kooks with shaved heads, wearing long robes, chanting
around a head of lettuce. I thought about the Heaven's Gate group
who had committed suicide only six months ago, when a comet
arrived. I remembered the people who were willing to burn to death
in Waco, Texas rather than forsake their allegiance to David
Koresh and his brand of religion. These visions were so extreme
that I was convinced that the people willing to participate in
such bizarre behavior must have been incredibly stupid or
mentally ill, not at all like the friends and family I grew up
with, not at all like me. I was much too smart and too sane to
ever get involved in anything like that.
In high school, I was a typical
teenager. I hung out with girlfriends, went to parties and dated.
I graduated with a 3.8 GPA. I looked forward to college that
summer, wondering what opportunities the campus would offer, what
new friends I'd make and if I would meet my future husband there.
I was excited at the prospect of turning over a new page of my
life, but also apprehensive about leaving the security of my
parents and everything else familiar. I was sad too, that my high
school friends and I would be going our separate ways.
A few weeks after I moved into my
dorm, my high school boyfriend and I ended our relationship. We
had been together for three years and the break-up left a huge
hole in my heart. I felt completely alone. At about the same time,
in mid-October, I was invited by a fellow student to an off-campus
bible discussion group. I was interested in learning more about
God and the Bible at a time in my life when everything seemed so
uncertain. The meeting was stimulating, so a week later, I
attended a weekend campus retreat with the same group. The deep
commitment I saw of over 500 students to their faith intrigued me.
Their sense of purpose and direction was something I longed to
have - an anchor both emotionally and spiritually. With this group
I also experienced a sense of community, even family.
I began a series of eight
small-group Bible studies. The other members paid a lot of
attention to me. In fact, they made me feel that they had become
my best friends almost overnight. Our studies focused on Bible
verses, but also implied that The International Churches of Christ
was the only true church. Only they understood how to interpret
and live by holy scriptures. During these group studies, I was
encouraged to talk about myself personally - how I grew up, my
family, the boyfriend I had just broken up with, my hopes and
fears for my future. This information was woven into subsequent
meetings to help the study leader present a stronger and more
personal case to me regarding my potential membership in the ICC.
Over the next few weeks I became convinced that although I had a
Christian upbringing, I wasn't a true Christian because I had
simply heard the truth, but hadn't received the proper guidance to
live it. The only way to save my soul was to join this church who
practiced what they preached and would help me to do the same. A
poignant fear began to take root in me too, that if I didn't take
this step, I might ultimately go to Hell. So, late one evening at
the end of November, I was baptized at my Bible Talk leader's
house.
Our mission was to purify
ourselves of sin and then unify like a spiritual wall to push sin
out of the rest of mankind before it's too late and we destroy
ourselves. Our leaders assured us that if we worked hard enough we
would be able to accomplish this in one generation. We were
soldiers in training for a great war, like an Armageddon, and
every breath we took, every thought and action would be devoted to
this mighty purpose. Previous concerns, like which career I would
pursue after college or when I would meet my true love and start a
family, were considered petty and selfish in comparison to our
lofty, shared mission. These issues were purposefully pushed out
of my mind along with my former personality, hobbies, likes and
dislikes and such frivolous pleasures as reading a good mystery
novel or going to the mall. My own interests didn't matter anymore
because now I was marching to the music of a higher calling. Over
the next three years I recruited friends, family and strangers -
anything that walked on two legs - to a group which I believed
without a doubt would be my and the world's saving grace. I
attended every meeting the church held. There were Sunday and
Wednesday night services, weekly Bible talks, Friday night college
devotionals and Saturday night dates with other members. Dating
outside of the church was severely frowned upon, and in addition,
you were not supposed to turn down an offer for a date from
another church member because these evenings were viewed as an
opportunity to nurture and develop pure spiritual relationships
between men and women. I was also advised to limit my interactions
with non-members, including friends and family visits home,
because prolonged exposure to their lack of belief in the True Way
would distract me, dilute my commitment and perhaps even corrupt
my purpose. Tithing was mandatory and as a work-study student
earning $50 a week, I gave 10% ($5) of each paycheck to the
church. Once a year I was also obligated to give 20 times my
weekly donation, or $100 in my case, as a "Special Missions
Contribution".
I was assigned a discipling
partner and I had to report how many people I had managed to
invite to meetings each week. If she didn't approve of the number
of newcomers I brought, then I was rebuked and scorned during our
small group bible study meetings. My fellow members watched me all
the time and reported any unacceptable behavior to my discipling
partner - supposedly for my own good - to keep me on the right
track. One time I was scolded for riding in a car with a
non-member Rutgers student, and another time for choosing to visit
my father on his birthday rather than attend a Wednesday night
worship service. I also had to confess all of my sins of thought
and deed. Between meetings which always ended late and an early
wake- up call to read my Bible and pray (obligatory quiet time),
my schedule was completely full and it seemed that I never had
enough rest or time to study for my regular college courses. Sleep
deprivation, over-stimulation from the church's demands and
constant surges of adrenalin triggered from my fear of reprimand
for mis-deeds, made it hard to think straight. A cloud of anxiety
and fatigue accompanied me everywhere.
Perhaps this is starting to sound
like a cult to you, but in my blind exhaustion I couldn't discern
anything beyond simply surviving the next minute. Besides, a cult
was a place where they drank poison Kool-Aide and committed
suicide, and no one was asking me to kill myself for the cause, so
how could this be a cult? Right! What I didn't realize was that
something was begin murdered, and that was my spirit. The group
was subtly and intentionally breaking down my self-esteem and my
ability to think for myself. I was terribly unhappy but when my
mind and body cried out in agony, I countered with
rationalizations. After all, I was following the Bible and
obedient to God's will - a spiritual warrior in training, no
different than any athlete preparing for the upcoming Olympics.
Pain and frustration were to be expected when challenging my
limits of endurance, but this was the price to be paid for
throwing off the bondage of sin in order to free and empower my
spiritual self. The path to God is narrow and rocky, but there is
no other way to get there. Besides, glorious rewards lay in the
future, especially reserved for those of us courageous enough to
endure the assault on the front lines. My conflict was perpetually
intense, but I dutifully submerged it by reinforcing my focus
toward the mission.
In the fall of my junior year, I
began a relationship on the internet with a church member in
Illinois. Several months later, I flew out to visit him with great
anticipation of finally connecting with the right man. However,
the guy I had been so excited about was nothing like I expected
and I returned home humiliated with dashed hopes. I needed a
shoulder to cry on and someone to care about my disappointment,
but all my fellow church members gave me was indifference. They
told me to "get over it" and "concentrate on saving the lost". I
was in an emotional crisis and the people who I had shared my life
with for the past three years, like fellow comrades in an army
battalion - people I believed cared about and valued me - blew me
off. After everything I had given, when I really needed someone,
no one was there. The coldness with which I was treated suddenly
made me realize how shallow our relationships really were, and
also how I had neglected my own feelings for the sake of the
mission. I hardly felt human anymore.
That crisis was my wake-up call,
and for me, the beginning of the end. I tried to keep up my
familiar schedule of meetings and services, but my heart just
wasn't in it anymore. One night I finally broke down and shared my
distress with my mother. She said she knew someone who could help
me and asked if I would be willing to speak with him. He was
what's called an "exit counselor" - an expert in cult mind
control. Although I was open, I was also terrified, still
believing I would lose my salvation if I ever left the ICC. A few
weeks later, Dave Clark - the exit counselor, arrived, and he
stayed at our house for four days. He knew all about the ICC,
having researched the organization since 1980, the year I was
born. He knew exactly where all the donated money was really going
- to finance a luxurious lifestyle for the leaders, not to
charity. I listened to audiotapes of top leaders briefing leaders
beneath them, instructions which contradicted the information we,
as rank and file members, had received. Dave knew the Bible and
showed me how the group had twisted the scriptures to serve
themselves. He showed me videotapes of news specials on the church
- investigations which questioned if the church was actually a
cult. In these I saw plain evidence of the top leaders' hypocrisy
as they lied to cover up scandal. I was shocked and angered as I
realized I had been manipulated and exploited solely for the
financial gain of the leaders, and that the benevolent front
presented by them, to save the world, was just a ruse to seduce my
idealistic, well-intentioned and trusting mind and heart. My head
split open with the truth and I realized that the ICC was indeed a
cult and I had been their victim. Overwhelmed with emotion, yet
relieved to finally be able to pick a side and end my internal
conflict, I decided to leave the church, two days before my 21st
birthday. I spent every spare moment for the next month on the
internet reading hundreds of former members' stories, all
appallingly similar to mine. I had finally awakened from a 3-year
coma.
That summer I reflected back on my
history with the group. I had thought I was entering the church
with both eyes open, and that I was certainly smart enough to
recognize anything funky, yet all along I was deceived, and even
worse, I carried on that deception by telling half-truths to the
people I tried to recruit - only the information the church felt
they needed to know at a certain point. I lost three years of my
life - most of my college experience - and I can never get it
back. That really hurts.
There are over 3000 known cults in
the United States, with memberships anywhere from one individual
to thousands. Close to 180,000 people become new members every
year and a large portion of them are recruited as college students
just like me. It is a time in our lives when we are particularly
vulnerable, inexperienced and idealistic. Cults are professionals
at deception and manipulation and they take advantage of human
needs and weaknesses which most people don't even know they have.
For the most part cults recruit intelligent, passionate and
capable people and use mind control techniques to subtly but
profoundly change their thinking in order to serve the cult's
agenda. This is called brainwashing. It is not possible to easily
identify a cult because they mask their intentions behind a
benevolent front, blending in with legitimate churches and other
humanitarian organizations. It is not easy to identify a member of
a cult - for their members come from all walks of life. The may be
of any race, religion, occupation or personality. They are
professionals, college students, athletes, movie stars and entire
families. Nor can you conclude that one person is a cult candidate
and another is not. You can not protect yourself with smart,
critical thinking, because cults speak to and control you through
your emotional needs, not your mind. Every person passes through
periods of emotional vulnerability. If at that time a predator
comes along, who speaks the words you long to hear, who makes you
feel the way you long to feel, the transition from independent,
free-willed citizen to cult puppet may be made. It is simply a
matter of being in the wrong state of mind, in the wrong place, at
the wrong time.
This is a short article written by
a cult survivor named Liz Shaw.
Looking through our files
yesterday, I was struck by how many cults and abusive churches use
the word "family" in their title. Others make use of the words
"brothers", "sisters", "children" etc.
In retrospect, I can remember how
the cult I became involved with went to great lengths to make me
feel part of a new family, while persistently denigrating my own
family of origin. Normal, growing-up experiences were
reinterpreted by the group to make my real family seem
dysfunctional and even abusive. I was urged to face my family and
confront them on what I realize now were some ridiculous and
unfounded charges. The problems began when my poor, unwitting
loved ones weren't ready to acknowledge these imagined sins. Once
they "refused to accept responsibility", I was required to "let
them go" so that they would ultimately learn from the pain of my
separation from them. Yeah, right! I was so arrogant and
accusatory, they were probably relieved to let ME go! The
cult won by playing us against each other.
Thankfully, I am now reunited with
my family and they have been gracious and forgiving for my
outrageous behavior while under the group's influence. Currently,
countless young people are going off to college for the first
time. Many are eager to try out their new wings of independence.
That is as it should be, but I do want to sound a warning. There
are many counterfeit families out their waiting to prey on these
new fledglings. Don't become a casualty of "love bombing" by these
people. And while you are at it, continue to love your family,
warts and all.
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