I have just read your blog, and like you I grew up in the WCG (UK) with my sister and brothers. At one time I believed everything that I was told by my parents and the church. Had some good times as a teen going of to S.E.P camp in Scotland 5 times, and at F.O.T. Things changed after the death of Mr. Armstrong. It was like he had a hold of me but I did not see it for 5 years. My mum and dad, sister and brothers stayed until the split, then moved to UGC. For some reason they kept the news of the split from me for 4 years. Out of us 4 kids it is just my sister, her husband, and 2 boys still attending UCG with mum and dad. January 8 dad was ordained to elder. I do get on with my family better now that I’m out of it.

And I would not found my wife of 3 years if I stayed.

Many thanks,

R. Johnson

• Click here to visit the Ironwolf Forum.

• Click here to visit the just-opened Ex-WCG Non-Believers board.

• Click here to visit the board dealing specifically with Ronald Weinland.

My parents started attending WCG in 1969 when I was 2 years old. I don’t remember much of these early years. I do remember my parents sending back birthday and Christmas presents from my relatives, and the corresponding confusion on their part. My grade school years were filled with awkward moments when it came to birthdays and any “worldly” holidays. Eventually my class mates stopped even trying to include me in any of these events. By 6th grade I became what the WCG would call “separate” from the world. My only friends were in the church, I became a recluse, and nearly an outcast but for the tentative links to the other people on the fringes.

My teenage years were not much better. My only friends were in the church. I was excluded and teased by my school mates about my strange beliefs. I went to SEP two times. The first time I went, I remember being accused of having a bad attitude while playing basketball by an AC student counselor. I was actually enjoying myself up to that point in time, it was baffling to me. The second time I went to SEP I got stuck in the Measles quarantine. (I think it was 1984). I guess that is what you get when very few are immunized. I had to stay an extra 4 days after we were supposed to go home before I was “released”. At the end we were lucky to get 2 meals a day. Most of the time we only got one meal. It seems that after camp was supposed to be over, they didn’t feel like they had to feed us consistently. I had thoughts of “borrowing” a canoe in the middle of the night and paddling into town to call my parents to come and get me. A year later I saw one of my dorm mates from camp at the ministerial hospitality room at the feast in the Wisconsin Dells. I was “serving” at the time. I was severely chastised by my minister for saying “Hi” to him. I was told that the ministers and their families and friends were “special” and I could not speak to them unless spoken to. I remember feeling very angry about this and the logical side of me saying this is just wrong!

I met my wife in the church (one of the very good things I got from being in WCG). We dated for several years at which point the WCG forced us not to see each other, due to the fact that my wife was baptized, and I was not. I was amazed an angered at this. I spent the next seven months studying to be baptized so we could see each other again. We should have left then, but our families would have disowned us. My first son was born a year after we were married. Fortunately for us we had similar feelings and beliefs about things. We were in our third tithe year on my entry level mechanics salary. We had to use a charge card to buy food and diapers for our son. We lived in a series of really awful apartments over the years due to the financial drain of the church. I believe we still feel the shadow of the financial impact even today - 12 years post departure. We finally were forced to talk to the minister about our financial situation. There was no way we could continue to tithe and still survive. He told us to keep tithing, and he would give us financial assistance if we couldn’t make it work (accented with a bit of guilt for good measure.). We finally took a bit of a stand. We discontinued tithing - because there was NO way we could make it. We didn’t tell our parents for fear of the impending “Lake of fire” discussion. This was around the time when the church started to change. Joe Tkach Sr. was preaching the more mainstream path, my wife and I were somewhat interested. My parents and our present Minister were completely against it. Instead of leaving directly - our minister stayed around for several months until he was able to secure a JOB with one of the “splinter” groups. During this job hunting time we were graced with the pleasure of the minister sulking in the back hallway whenever a guest minister was preaching the new path, or enduring comments like “I don’t agree with this - but I was told I had to speak about it” during the service. We watched families splinter around us, (including my own for a brief time), long time friends that would not even talk to each other, and my father said he was worried I would burn in the lake of fire.

We got a new minister who spent most of his sermons complaining about how the church moved him around so much, and that he can’t even gain any equity in his house. Also he said that if our membership dropped any more there would no longer be a church in our area, we would have to go it on our own. (I assume he would be transferred again or lose his job.) In light of all this we were more and more frequently missing church, and I started to feel as though there were blinders being lifted from my eyes.

Our last feast of tabernacles was in Hot Springs Arkansas. (It seems I was struggling to let this tradition go as yet). We arrived to find a virtual ghost town. No one rolling out the red carpet for good old WCG any more. We quickly decided not to attend the services (not many people there). We played with the kids (now 2 sons) in the hotel room for a couple of days after finding nothing else to do. Then we packed up and went home - never to return to WCG (or any other religious organization) again.

I feel that organized religion has nothing to do with spirituality or god for that matter. I am still most certainly impacted by my experiences in the church. I have trouble making friends, I have trouble partaking in social events with my co-workers. I find that I still “separate” myself subconsciously. I have trouble celebrating Christmas with my own children, but want them to have good childhood memories. On the other hand, I feel lucky to have been able to “See the light”, and understand what I was once part of. It was a freeing experience after spending my entire life up to that point in a cult.

I truly appreciate all of my childhood friends, and wish all of you who had similar experiences in WCG much freedom, health, and healing. Thank you Robert, for creating this forum.

My name is Greg Resler. Feel free to email me: shadowyak@canoemail.com

helen_rowe51@hotmail.com

Today, I found your WCG blog and added it to the links on my new blog. Like you, I find myself healing by writing about my experiences in ‘the church.’

Today is Easter Sunday. On the television they are playing a Catholic mass. Everything about it seems so foreign to me: the organ and choir music, the images of Jesus on the cross, the prayers that everyone recites together. The Christian message, that Jesus died for our sins on the cross, is completely alien to me.

I actually feared the concept of Easter as a child. The Worldwide Church of God deemed Easter a Pagan holiday. I remember getting a chocolate easter egg from a teacher at school and feeling as if I had committed an unpardonable sin by eating it. It is important to note that the word ‘Pagan’ and ‘Satanic’ were interchangeable in the Worldwide Church of God.

It is true that Easter is on the Spring Equinox, and that Pagan religions of Europe had celebrations on all of the Equinoxes and Solstices. It is also true that, in order to convert Pagans to Christianity, the Catholic church absorbed Pagan holidays into their customs. The Worldwide Church of God deemed nearly all holidays Satanic; Christmas, Easter, Halloween, Valentines Day, St. Patrick’s Day.

I believe Armstrong condemned these holidays for a few main reasons:

First, to keep members of ‘the church’ from ever being able to visit, fellowship with or convert to other Christian churches.

Secondly, to alienate ‘church’ members from any family members who were not in the Worldwide Church of God. Holidays are when family — who may not see each other very often — gather together. Members of ‘the church’ were unable to accept Christmas presents or go to family get-togethers on any of these holidays.

Thirdly, because we were not allowed to celebrate these Pagan holidays of the world, the Hebrew Holy Days of ‘the church’ became very important. Armstrong tried to make all of our happiest childhood memories center around the ‘the church’ and it’s practices.

For instance, the Feast of Tabernacles was the most important time of the year for me, as a child. For a whole week, my family would stay at a hotel in Rapid City, South Dakota; USA. We would get presents, like ‘normal’ Christians would get at Christmas; we would go out to eat at restaurants and fellowship with other members of ‘the church.’ Most importantly, sometimes my grandparents from the UK would come to the Feast in Rapid City.

Although I have finally accepted the fact that the Worldwide Church of God was a bible-based cult, some part of me still misses going to the Feast. All of the warm, family memories most people have for Christmas, I have for the Feast of Tabernacles. I believe this is why, when my family first left the Church, I studied hard to convert to Judaism. Those Holy Days were so important to me — and my identity — that I could not let them go. If it were not that I lived 100 miles away from the nearest Jewish Temple, I believe I would have converted by the age of 16.

Watching these Christians celebrate Easter on TV makes me realize I don’t really know what true Christianity is. I was taught to fear Catholics, and in fact all Christians who celebrated these Pagan, Satanic holidays. I remember physically fearing the Lutheran church my grandmother went to. I was scared to go in the building, as it was filled with what I was told were ‘false idols’ — images of Christ and the cross. I was scared to even look at the imagery.

Not only were we taught to fear and distrust all forms of Christianity by the Worldwide Church of God, we were also told that demons dwelt in all other churches. We were taught that Satan was in control of the world, and anyone who was not in the Worldwide Church of God had demons in control of their mind. Only those in God’s one true church (the Worldwide Church of God) were not under the influence of Satan.

I was taught all this as a small child, and it affects me to this day.

Thanks for your time;

Donna
armstrongism.blogspot.com

In my college days, my job was in the transportation dept. on the campus. One of my jobs was to go in to Gladewater to get “supplies” for the college. Many of those trips were to the local booze shop and get van loads of beer and hard stuff of all kinds and bring them back to campus. I would sign the receipts when I picked them up and couldn’t believe the amount of money being spent. I could go on and on about the various drinking, womanizing, and goings on but won’t bore you with it. Suffice it to say, I played guitar at the sing-alongs next to GTA, played basketball with him from high school through college, even flew with him on his Falcon jet on one occasion, so I’m not saying I was in the “in crowd” but I certainly knew more than I probably was suppose to know, if you get my drift. I’ve been free from WCG for over 20 years now and really don’t feel bitter. I have an 84 year old mother still with United and I have all the love and respect for her in the world. I know she is a very loyal member and for that I respect her. I feel that she needs the friends and the companionship she gets there and that’s fine. I “had” a lot of friends in the church but haven’t heard from any of them in so many years it’s not funny.

I wouldn’t mind hearing from many of them. Maybe some will read this and try to get in touch.

In the meantime, thank you for this forum. Hopefully you’ll keep it going long enough to help loads of people out there in need of a place to vent.

Sincerely,
Dave Wells
dwells@techna-graphics.net

I have recently been inspired to put into words my own thoughts on the circus of the South and my life thus far–how it felt to be estranged from most other people I encountered throughout my life–and how it now feels to still find myself afraid of a God that was constructed to control me through suspicion, paranoia, and despair. I don’t know what the truth is about these discrepancies between what I remember, what I’ve unearthed through research, and what motivated each of my parents to join this cult to begin with. The longer I live, the more mysterious my own life becomes to me. I don’t understand most of it, and yet it keeps happening. I’m not certain, but I suspect that most of the really ugly “down” time I have spent over the course of the last year or so had something to do with an attempt to keep new things from happening so that I could see more clearly everything that was already swirling, ambiguous, and frightening about my past. I know that it won’t stop spinning. But I got an idea: maybe, if I try to write it down, remember it as best I can, I’ll become centered enough to see things more clearly. Remember sitting in the middle of the merry-go-round? You could close your eyes and pull your feet close, and you’d spin and spin and never get dizzy. Clinging to the edge with your head thrown back, trying to see everything all at once…instant vomit cocktail.

I’m digressing. I haven’t been writing much of anything lately, so I’m relying far too much on adverbs and weak metaphors.

I’d like to make a long story short, but I can’t. I don’t even know what the story is yet.

What I wanted to say, this time, is fairly important to me, though.

I don’t believe in God. Not that God. Not the guy I learned to loathe through what was done to me in his name.

I don’t want anything to do with church anymore, and I think that most religion is a practical joke played on the masses.

I want to be a good person, and I don’t need God or religion to do the dirty work for me. I refuse to be like so many of the religious people I have known, with their rotten attitudes and their self-serving pedantry. I strongly feel that “With or without religion and God, good people would do good things and bad people would do bad things. But for good people to do bad things–that takes religion.” I don’t even know who said that. I hope my Christian friends won’t take offense to these declarations. If we are friends, really friends, then your life inspires me and our connection is God to me. But in the meantime, some of the most miserable times of my life were forced on me by religion and religious people. And I DO blame religion, because so much of it was done in God’s name. I don’t want anything to do with that God, if He’s there. The world of Christianity was not one of love, anymore than any other caring world community would be. I’m through with it. I’m through.

Hi!! My name is Tonya Marie. My sister is Cherie Marquez— you published her story here. As she has told you, we are a family of eight kids! I am the youngest child out of these eight. I am now 22 years of age and though I was subjected to the least amount of WCG cult activities, I still had just enough that painful memories stick in my mind.

My mother talks to me often about the horrible things the church did to her mind. To this day she still doesn’t have enough courage to stand up for herself, even in her own marriage to my father. Don’t get me wrong: my father is a loving father in his own way and has never done anything to harm her or his family BUT he constantly without realization belittled my mother for everything she did… she couldn’t even find escape in her artwork because he picked at that as well until she hated everything about herself. When I broke free and was old enough to understand the consequences that come with my actions is when I started speaking up for my mother, and very often too!

She has told me how the church told woman that they could not dress sexy, wear makeup, or even perfume. One time when my mother wore her perfume (outside of the church of course) to the grocery store… an older gentleman complimented her and told my mother that she smelled like his late wife used to. Needless to say, to this day, my mother feels bad about having aroused another man’s senses.

Though I was raised as a “cult Christian” I no longer claim Christianity as my religion. I follow New Age beliefs now. Meditation is my release, not ritual prayers! I remember always getting really bad headaches for 2 weeks straight while in school and my dad’s answers was to kneel me by his bed and anoint me with oil… I would just pretend to feel better the next day to avoid that again. The adults in the church were cruel and rude to not only myself but other children as well…

The saddest story amongst my siblings however, I think belongs to my older brother who I will call “Tip Toes,” because at the time of our church goings we had a neighbor that lived next door to us that constantly babysat my older brother and I on a regular basis. Well, my brother was sexually molested by this NOT so friendly neighbor. And because of the church, my brother told no one. He was afraid my parents wouldn’t believe him. So, that man, where ever he is now… is still out there, probably showing the same courtesy to other young boys. I can only hope he is too old to continue but I could very well be wrong.

I don’t hate my parents, they were manipulated by a satanic system. I love them both in fact but growing up, the words “I LOVE YOU” weren’t often heard. I took the initiative to say this to my mother every night. But I never had that connection with my father, and still don’t. I have no problem saying this now and every day to my mother, but I don’t have the courage to say it to my father. I don’t know why because I know he loves me back. But, it’s just hard never having heard him say it all these years growing up. It is a struggle for me because I want to cry when I think about the day I won’t be able to say it to him any more and will have missed out on my chance, but I choke up whenever he is around or visits. If only he would say it first…

Well, that is only part of my story… only part of my whole family’s story… but to continue would take up way too much of your time! Anyway, thanks for listening.

Tonya Marie

The original posting I did on Weinland is here. When it finally got over 250 comments I started a new thread to continue the discussion here. People are mostly arriving from Google searches on Weinland’s name.

You can see all my postings on false prophets here. (Be sure to click the post title to read the whole thing.)

Hi all!

I too, was born into and grew up in the WCG. My father got involved because his mother listened on the radio while he was growing up. As many of the families in the WCG, it seemed many of our relatives also came to church. I was one of 8 children, one of the older of the 8 of us. My father worked on the railroad and made good money. However, it only went so far between first, second and third tithes and 10 mouths to feed. It was a constant struggle to make ends meet. At the start of a new school year I usually got 3 tee-shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 belt and 1 pair of shoes for the year. It is all they could afford and we all got the same.

I was a depressed child. Being one child in so many made getting any personal attention impossible. I was in charge of caring for my younger brothers and sisters most of the time. When I look back I can see how depressed my mother was. At the time, I had no idea she was so depressed being too young to understand. As was par for the course for most of us who grew up in the church, we weren’t allowed to associate with ‘worldly people’ or make friends with anyone outside the church. I became extremely shy because of constant ridicule in primary school. I was an outsider, as was my brother and younger sisters. School kids were unusually cruel and never missed an opportunity to poke fun at me or my family. I grew up in the 70’s/80’s, and as such we only ate healthy foods. No fats, preservatives, sugars, etc. All of us, my sisters and me developed skin problems from the lack of fat in our diet. My eyes peeled (lids) and were always red and irritated, as were behind my ears and on my arms. All of which has disappeared now that I’m an adult and eat a normal diet.

My moms depression knew no limits, she often slept during the day and charged us with watching one another. She was perpetually pregnant, and gave birth to all of us at home with the exception of the first and last. I can remember we were like slaves. I stood on a chair at the kitchen sink washing dishes as early as 6 years old, maybe earlier (with no adult supervision). It would take me hours and I would develop rashes on the underside of my arms up to my elbows because they would sit in the water too long. My mom would cure that with vinegar, which burned terribly to a young child. We never went to the doctor, God would heal us. In 1977, at age 7, I almost died from a ruptured appendix. I remember I couldn’t even walk, my sister and brother would hold me up and walk me to my bedroom. I threw up everything I ate and slept on the floor in my parents room until my dad made me go back to my room. It wasn’t until I woke everyone up in the middle of the night screaming at the top of my lungs that my dad took me to the hospital. Since I hadn’t gotten treatment before my appendix ruptured, I was in bad shape. I spent 21 days in the hospital and went thru two surgeries to clean out the infection that was raging inside my abdomen.

I hated school, and used any excuse I could to stay home. My parents NEVER sat and did homework with any of us. As a matter of fact we were pretty much left to ourselves after school. I was horrible in school, I never did my homework. I remember getting one spanking after another in third grade for not turning in my homework. My parents never decided to sit down with me and see that I did my homework. It wasn’t important to them. Besides we were going to live in caves in Petra, Jordan, why would I need an education for that!

In ninth grade a miracle happened, we moved across the city. From South Miami to North Miami. This was huge for me because it meant I could start over in school and these kids wouldn’t know me or about the church or about my family and our weirdness. But years of torture at the hands of my fellow school mates made me to insecure to really reach out and make friends. Besides, I still couldn’t go to Friday Night Football games or Saturday dances. So I still was the odd one out and it didn’t take long for me to find myself in fights trying to defend myself from the new kids. I kept a tight lid on the church to my fellow students and had a few school acquaintances that I was friendly with. None, that I saw outside of class or school. I would tell everyone that I was going on a family vacation for the Feast. Of course the teachers knew better and it was hard to keep under wraps.

High school was the only time I had any friendships that were good for me. I had a real friend. Someone who understood what I was going through. She too, went to the church. We immediately became friends, however, she had a lenient family and her parents let her watch TV on Fridays and sometimes even hang out or go to a Friday night game. My dad, who was a deacon at the time, was thrilled. My friend, I’ll call her “Beaz” since that was her high school nickname, her dad was also a deacon and well respected at that. It wasn’t until they realized that when I spent Friday night with her that we were going out to games and just being kids that things took a turn for the worse. We weren’t doing anything bad, just wanting to be normal teenagers. That’s when they started trying to limit my exposure to Beaz. She was a bad, worldly, influence on me and my parents wanted it to stop. By this time I had realized I had a voice and became argumentative about WCG and its teachings. I continued to rebel, sneaking out my window on Friday nights, lying to my parents about where I was going and what I was doing. I was grounded all the time. But I didn’t stop; I just wanted to be normal, not this freak. I skipped school continuously. I used to laugh about it with Beaz, we were going to Petra, we wouldn’t even make it to graduation. It’s funny to me now, looking back that I actually thought that. Because I was vehemently opposed to what the church taught. But when you grow up in a church like the WCG, you can’t outrun those teachings. Neither Beaz, nor me thought any different. I remember the first time I shaved my legs, I got a lecture from my mom about how we wouldn’t have razor’s on Petra and I would have the hairiest legs there. Imagine, our surprise (Beaz and me) to find ourselves graduating high school. We never even tried, nor did our parents encourage us to try or to go to college or to better ourselves in any way. If anything, knowledge was the enemy. But somehow, we managed to graduate in the middle of our class, the class of 1988. No accolades or honors for us.

During high school, we tried to be involved in our YOU activities. Both Beaz and I joined the cheerleading squad for the church basketball team. This was a big deal to our head minister, Mr. Barr. Mr. Barr loved basketball, and he was going to have the best basketball team in Florida. The girls quickly formed a cheerleading squad. Of course, we sewed our own uniforms or our moms did. Mr. Barr spent a lot of time and effort getting the basketball team to its peak. We as a squad, practiced really hard and came up with a terrific halftime dance to the Batman soundtrack, which was hugely popular. The music had to be approved by Mr. Barr prior to us using it. So we submitted it for approval and since it was almost completely music and no words it was a no-brainer that it got approved and we practiced our dance till we dropped. We were good and we worked hard to get that way. One week before the games, one of the parents complained that our music was written and performed by Prince. Even though it had been approved by the pastor himself, he changed his mind and told us we couldn’t use the song. Since we were just girls, it didn’t matter to him that he crushed everyone of us who had devoted our heart and souls to putting on this show and deserved to get to perform. All he cared about was his boys basketball team, the cheerleaders were just a bunch of girls who had better conform and start following the leadership of the men. We performed no dance that year. I quit the squad the following year, as did Beaz.

Needless to say, when the church split, my dad, who was an elder by that time quit the WCG. Everyone was shocked. How can you have faith one day and the next throw it all away. Everyone thought he would go with the splinter group, Global Church of God (I think.) He devoted his life and the lives of his family to the church for 28 years, and now it was over. Just like that he stopped going and he converted to traditional Christianity. My parents are still together, although they attend no church now. We celebrate all the traditional holidays, like Christmas. Which is odd for me since I have no warm, fuzzy, feelings about Christmas. If anything, I think it’s a big scam to get consumers to spend money they don’t have on gifts for people who will probably never use them. I hope to overcome those feelings with my own children and develop wonderful Christmas memories with my own family one day.

I’m 38 now. I got married for the first time at 36. I never thought I would get married, I lived my life like there was no tomorrow. It’s how I was brought up: don’t plan for your future, worry about the now. Why would I get married if the world was inevitably coming to an end in my lifetime? I thought I had escaped the harm the WCG did to some people. My sister for example, she resents my parents for ruining her childhood and bringing us up in the WCG. In a cult! I don’t resent them, my parents loved us and may have been misled. But they bought us up to be good people and we are all stronger for the experience. I love my parents and I know they regret getting involved in the WCG. I finally escaped the WCG, and started living my life. I realize I am going to have a full life (barring any unfortunate circumstance) and I want a husband and a family.

In 2006 I married for the first time and am trying to have a baby. I found this blog and thought I would put down my story for all to read who care too. The past is the past and I’ve finally put that behind me. I often think of the WCG and all the pot lucks that were sooooo good. My childhood is gone, but I plan to live my adulthood to the fullest and make the most of the time I have ahead of me. I hope others who have been through this will find some hope in my story.

Thanks for listening.