Non-Believer Former Members of the Worldwide Church of God

maverick007nz@yahoo.co.nz
Attended Auckland, New Zealand

Two things happened recently… I discovered that I was raised in a cult, and subsequently, I happened upon this website.

I would describe my life as not life, but fear of life. Now at 37 years old, fear still controls me. Other people see me as a man, but inside I am a scared little boy. My memories of life in WCG are not the best, no surprises there. Some things are vivid, others are hazy, but I will share what I can. I was born in 1969, and my parents entered the church when I was an infant. They heard HWA on a radio station and must have received some literature. I remember being told that ministers came to visit us, ironically my father was a pig farmer at the time, so must have been a rather hard sell as a future convert. I have very little recall of my early childhood and I don’t really know why. Nothing worth remembering I guess.

My father was very controlling and obsessed with money, my mother protective of my 2 siblings and I, but never really stood up to him. We always moved around a lot, looking back now it was more like a nomadic lifestyle. We had a roof but never for long enough to call it a home. Due to the tithing we did without things like meat at dinnertime, but wasn’t the overabundance at the Feast and other holy days just fantastic?

From early teens, I became aware that we were somehow different from everyone else. I had three sides to my life, the person I was at church, the person I was at school and the person I was at home. In reality I was no-one. My father went from being this “wonderful” person at church to a cold, physically, emotionally and psychological abusive person at home. I can recall many dishings out of discipline for being “naughty”, when in fact it was just kids being kids. I am pretty sure he got the same treatment growing up, and took pleasure in passing it along. I remember one FOT, we were all in the motel, I was writing my diary or doing homework. On a spur of the moment I jumped up and grabbed my father in a play fighting sort of way, and was whacked on the side of the head instantly. That was his reaction, and probably still is today.

There was even one birthday party I remember as a kid. All the children together, presents, birthday cake and candles. A real party with happy people. A world apart from the fake smiles and strained expressions, so common at WCG gatherings.

What can I say about my teens? Sheer hell would be a good description. I did have friends at high school, but still had to keep distance from them, as they were not the “chosen ones”. Like many other unfortunate teens growing up in WCG, I missed all the things that the other kids could do. Of course they saw me as different, and I got bullied because of it. No matter how I tried to fit in, you couldn’t hide the fact that you disappeared at funny times of the year, didn’t have a birthday party, Xmas etc.

Y.O.U. Another great WCG institution. Great for me, a naturally quiet, introverted sort of person to be forced to give speeches. More poisonous literature to read over and over. As if the endless sermons week after week weren’t enough to render a person mindless. Sure was effective for a lot of people. About all the notetaking of sermons ever did for me was improve my handwriting. How many exercise books full of nonsense did we fill up? And what a privilige to have a live satellite broadcast from the man himself.

Probably the only thing that kept me from going off the deep end was rock music. Another “worldly” thing we weren’t supposed to indulge in.

Being a good cultic teen, I also had the opportunity to attend S.E.P. Some fun was had there, but a lot of the time it was not. Often wonder how many parents knew what actually went on there. One positive outcome, I became good at sports activities, not by choice of course. I remember doing archery one afternoon, it was very hot and I had drunk a lot of liquids during breaktime. I had a weak bladder when I was younger, so after already rushing to the toilets several times, it got to the point I daren’t ask again out of fear. There I was, peeing my pants while shooting arrows at a target, hoping no one would notice. Fortunately, I was wearing dark jeans, so I don’t think anyone did. Bizarre.

The lack of medical treatment was not pleasant, having to rely on the power of prayer didn’t help much. I had very bad hayfever as a teenager, some days I would be walking around, my nose and eyes continually streaming liquid, sneezing and getting an increasing red nose. Horrible.

Often I wonder did I get measles when I was very young because my parents refused to have me immunised, or is it as they claim, there was no immunisations available back in the early seventies? One thing I have yet to confirm. Contracting it resulted in a lazy eye which required an operation, and wearing glasses for the rest of my life.

Back to the church. Now I can see it was all grooming to become preachers. I am glad I never “achieved” their aims. As in every congregation, there was the disfellowships from time to time, followed by the announcement that we should not fraternise with them because they were “of the world”. What a crock of shit. How can one person go from being good to bad just like that? This happened to a friend of mine, and I can recall walking across a field to go and say hello to him after a service. Felt like the biggest sinner on earth just for greeting my friend. Another who was more of a family friend than personal, stopped attending, and a rather condescending minister came up to me, asking if I would “talk” to him about coming back.

Mid teens, my parents were on the verge of separating, which was highly frowned upon. Counselling happened many times, but nothing changed. The only time I recall being happy in my family was when my parents actually looked happy being together, which didn’t last long either.

Around the age of 17, I began a trade apprenticeship and boarded with another church family to be closer to work. So I became more involved with the world and its “evils”. One of those was drinking alcohol, an essential part of any trade. Needless to say, I embraced it with open arms. There followed 17 years of alcoholism, which nearly killed me several times, got me disqualified from driving twice, and a few nights in the cells.

Having got to a point that I knew what WCG stood for was not anything I wanted to be part of or believed in, I still felt compelled to attend services. Now I was a single, and spending time with a group that was considered “liberal” because we had parties, went to nightclubs, drank alcohol etc. Being a “single” was probably the most bizarre experience I had in WCG. By this stage I had no identity of my own, years of mind control had seen to that. I clearly remember a “mens” session we had. There was also one for the women. A lot of advice was given, but I recall one pearl of wisdom from the minister. It was about having sex with your wife, if she wasn’t satisfied the first time, be sure to set your alarm clock for later on in the night so you can give it another go. What the hell? More male domineering crap. Looking back now, I feel for the women and children in the church. There was a lot of rubbish inflicted upon them under the guise of “doctrine”.

By age 20, I was still in WCG, although this was getting unpleasant as pressure to get married or go to Ambassador College kept mounting. Finally at around age 21 I left the church, the family I was boarding with and went flatting. As many others know, completely leaving everything behind was really hard. Now being a part of “the world” for the first time was a culture shock, and inevitably it did not go well. Years of alcohol and drug abuse, depression, suicidal tendencies. Lots of women wanting to have a relationship, but never happened as I would always run away from their interest. Fear controlling my life again and again. Where does this fear come from? Undoubtedly from my upbringing in WCG and from my father as my rolemodel. What does years of impending doom and fear of eternal damnation do to an adult? Let alone a child?

Several years ago I hit the wall, and attended an alcohol treatment program. It was mentioned to me by a counselor that I was raised in a cult as opposed to a christian church, which I always assumed it was. It didn’t really register, and until recently I thought little of it. I began to look up WCG on the internet and saw a lot of what went on which I had absolutely no idea about. How good were they at concealing the real nature of WCG from its members? Much searching and reading of library books brought me to the realisation that I am a child cult survivor. Fortunate I guess in some ways, I know of many members who are no longer alive, either as a direct or indirect result of being in WCG.

I am angry at my parents for dragging me along to the cult all those years, angry at not being given the choice of attending in the first place, angry at the so called “apostle of god”, angry at all those “holier than thou” ministers who looked down at us, angry at society for allowing cults like this the freedom to exist… but in the end, who is responsible?

I am an atheist, I have never seen god or any evidence he exists. I will never trust anyone who is an authority figure. I may never trust another human being enough to allow them close to me.

My personal experience of cults leads me to this conclusion; They will take your heart, your soul, your mind, your body, your money and maybe even your life, all in the name of something built on a foundation of lies. In the end you will have nothing.

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