The "Cool Mom" of Christianity
There are no rules in this cult.
One of the ways The Way International (TWI) tried to draw in new recruits was telling people we weren’t like those other Christians with all the rules. People in TWI smoked, drank, had premarital sex. We didn’t believe in hell. As long as we did something “in love” and it didn’t affect our “fellowship with God” (whatever that meant), whatever we did was okay.
We were the “cool mom” of Christianity.
My parents were still pretty straightlaced, and I was homeschooled. Back then homeschoolers were a very conservative bunch, and I’ve always been eager to please, so my teenage years were still very tame. But even though we didn’t believe you would go to hell if you smoked, we still had plenty of shame and judgement.
In his memoir and expose, The Cult That Snapped, journalist and former TWI member Karl Kahler interviewed a couple early TWI members who observed this same contradiction.
“‘It’s the law,’ Heefner said. ‘You’re teaching the law here with this inner group and you’re teaching grace with the outer group.’
‘And it’s the grace that attracts them,’ said Sandi, ‘then he pulls it back and puts them under the law.’
That struck me [Karl] as a good summation of my entire experience with The Way.”1
It was subtle and although I haven’t lived the other experience, I feel like maybe our hidden rules are more harmful because it’s harder to identify what I’m trying to free myself from.
In fact, I recently had a dream that I went to jail. Sounds like a nightmare, right? My dream was mostly about getting out of jail, and it was actually a good dream. A couple from the cult I left helped me when I got out. There was no lecturing or shame. They were nice to me and helped me, letting me stay with them.
I felt peace and relief when I got out of jail because I didn’t have to try to be perfect anymore. I wasn’t Elizabeth, The Straight A Student, or Elizabeth, The Good Little Girl. I was just me. And there was no way I could pretend to be perfect when I’d just gotten out of jail.
Obviously, this dream is unrealistic, and having a criminal record has real consequences on people’s lives. I actually think the incarceration rate in the US is atrocious, and I’m not trying to sugar coat any of that.
What’s telling to me though, is how much pressure I’ve felt all my life. I was barely a teen when an adult in the fellowship told me that I was the kind of girl God would have picked to give birth to Jesus Christ. I know they meant it as a compliment, but how do you act like a normal kid after that?
In high school and college, I helped lead the teen fellowship, so I was supposed to be an example to all the other kids. One time I got offered a free ticket to a play and had to turn it down because what would the other kids think if they knew I was missing hearing God’s Word to go to a play?
Once I was out of high school, I was allowed to make more of my own decisions, so sometimes I went to church events with non-cult friends. I was told not to tell anyone I was doing this because not everyone else could go to things like that and discern truth from error, so if they knew, I might cause them to stumble.
Anything I chose to do, I had to consider if it might distract someone else from the Word. This could include anything from not arranging chairs correctly before a meeting to wearing pants that were too tight.
There were many other vague rules as well.
If you missed God’s voice one time, he might never speak to you again.
Anything we messed up might mean fewer rewards in heaven, but there was no list of what was required.
We were supposed to be “faithful”, but it wasn’t clear what that meant. For example, the Old Testament King David was "a man after God’s own heart", but raped a woman and had her husband killed. This was taught as an example of God’s forgiveness, but it left me confused as to what was actually expected of me.
We were supposed to have an "abundant life" because of our believing. If we got sick and didn't get healed, that meant our believing was weak. In fact, if anything bad happened to us, that could be attributed to our believing.
The caption to this Instagram post by
, a former member of a different fundamentalist cult, captures the effects of this constant fear of messing up:“Fruits of obedience culture in my own life:
🍒an inability to value my needs
🍎 severe performance anxiety
🍑 deep fear of imperfection
🍇 paralysis in saying “no”
🍉 insistence that a more perfect solution had to be out there, if only I could figure it out (pre-emptive people pleasing)
🍓 self-subjugation and an assumption of gender-based inequality
🍋 living in a constant trauma response”
These same rotten fruits have soured my life as well, but I’m learning to throw them in the bin where they belong. For one thing, I believe people are more resilient than TWI gave them credit for. People can see a dusty bookcase and still follow a teaching. I’m not going to ruin anything by wearing tight pants. I’ve learned that any relationship where someone (even God) is going to quit talking to me or abandon me because I make a mistake is not worth my time.
Now I value laughing at mistakes, making amends when needed, and trusting that other people have the strength to live according to their values even if I make different choices than they do.
Kahler, Karl . The Cult That Snapped. (Kindle Locations 1725-1728). Kindle Edition.