It Could Have Been Worse
An ex-Jehovah’s Witness Evaluates Scientology
I’ve written before about my experience of having been born into the 3rd generation of a Jehovah’s Witness family. On the one hand, it’s not something many can comprehend. Compared with the experiences of most, waking up from the awareness that you were in an apocalyptic religious cult–and that it was all an enormous falsehood–is indeed quite Matrixy.
But the more I learn about ex-Scientologists, the more I have to admit it could have been worse.
There is a cloak and dagger aspect of leaving the JWs. Plenty of fear. Imagine this: I was 37 before I gave myself permission to be fully objective about my religion and 38 on September 15, 2004 when I actually woke up. A kind former Witness started sending me books and other materials from some who’d been through it before me. I kept these things in a large, leather duffel bag in the back of my closet, zippered shut with clothes stacked on top of it.
And I lived alone.
I replaced the cover of “Crisis of Conscience,” the book written by a previous member of the organization’s governing body with another one when I went to the doctor–so no one could see what I was reading in the waiting room. I put the books away in my apartment because I worried my cleaning lady–who only came once per month–might see them and might have a JW friend she’d mention it to.
I’m not trying to dramatize the experience in an attempt to magnify the horror of the Watchtower Society. I’m only saying it appears such fears are common to those who leave authoritarian organizations.
It’s true that JWs do a solid job of keeping track of their members, and make a fair effort of trying to get them back into the fold. When my 17 year old daughter and I skedaddled from Michigan to California, a contingent of local JWs persistently knocked at our door. Later I heard through my ex-wife that my mother had called them, asking them to “please go save my granddaughter.”
But they didn’t have access to my freaking bank accounts, nor did it ever occur to me to remove the batteries from my cell phone! Jesus. In reading the experience of Mike Rinder who left Scientology 15 years ago at age 52, I note his statement that he might well still be on the inside if it weren’t for the violent and especially extreme behavior of current leader David Miscavige. Is this another parallel with JWs?
After many, many hours of reading and considering the life and teachings of Charles Taze Russell, founder of Jehovah’s Witnesses, I’ve come to the conclusion that, yes, he was a quirky guy. But in my opinion not a bad guy. He used to write things like this…
“Beware of “organization.” It is wholly unnecessary. The Bible rules will be the only rules you will need. Do not seek to bind others’ consciences, and do not permit others to bind yours. Believe and obey so far as you can understand God’s Word today, and so continue growing in grace and knowledge and love day by day.” [Watchtower, September 15, 1895, p. 1866]
But after Russell’s death in 1916, it was Joseph Rutherford who took over, and this guy was entirely different; both dictatorial and at times clownishly pretentious. After him came Nathan Knorr who eventually instituted the disfellowshipping arrangement in which members would be shunned–including by those of their own families. In contrast with Russell’s above tolerant position, by 1981 this was the teaching…
“Those who desire life in the New Order must come into a right relationship with the organization.” [Watchtower, November 15, 1981, pp. 16–17]
It’s seemed to me that most any organization either remains quite small or, if it has an aspiration to grow, will eventually conclude it has no choice but to introduce control mechanisms. When concerns over the potential for tyranny arise, they may always be brushed aside by manufactured warnings. ‘We should all fear those who will corrupt the flock!’
‘Fear,’ you ask? ‘Aren’t you the special human instrument used by Almighty God himself? Didn’t King David say…
“Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life — of whom shall I be afraid? When my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall.””
Where is their confidence that God is with them? Is there even a momentary thought that maybe shunning isn’t a righteous policy, and that the “fear” involved here is actually fear the leadership has of losing their authority?
Some aspects of Scientology are certainly funny and/or bizarre to me, but then I consider to what degree participation is voluntary. My understanding of this group and others like it is that they are an extension of the old “human potential” movement. The official Scientology website states that it’s goal is, “making the individual capable of living a better life in his own estimation and with his fellows and the playing of a better game.”
I accept there are probably things such psychotechnologies teach adherents that do really help them become more successful in accomplishing goals. I am NOT saying that justifies authoritarianism. And, yes, I worry for those who don’t realize what they’re involved in. But as long as it’s voluntary, how can I scream if it violates some of my personal principles–when it apparently doesn’t violate theirs? I mean, I understand some willingly pursue relationships in which they are physically dominated by another person. It’s their call, isn’t it?
Is it weird to be directed by L. Ron Hubbard to rinse his laundry seven times to render it odorless? Well yeah. Receiving punishment for “unhandled evil intentions?” Frickin’ nuts. But if it really is voluntary–I find myself shrugging a bit. What do the rest of us do when there are people who think the upside is worth it to undergo “knowledge reports,” cruel interrogations or to be forced to stay at the organization’s headquarters known as the Hole in order to remain in good standing? We do our best, I suppose. Just like I have with the JWs.
After awakening in 2004 and moving to California in 2005, I believe I finally broke the news to my mother over the phone in early 2006, explaining I simply no longer believed the organization was what it claimed to be. It was as if I’d told her I decided to commit suicide. JWs assert that one’s future “life”— that is, survival after an impending Armageddon —is only possible through a “right relationship with the organization.” So she could only translate this as, ‘Mom, I’m choosing to be destroyed.’
Any of my fellow ex-Jehovah’s Witnesses who think I’m somehow minimizing the autocratic nature of the Watchtower Society should know that would be a false reading. The featured photo of my father and mother who’d agreed to see me “one last time” was from a bit over 15 years ago when I happened to be on business in Michigan. They met me at an Applebee’s Restaurant near my hotel, and we sat for nearly 3 hours, chatting rather pleasantly.
Shortly thereafter, when I called to suggest another meet with the rest of the family, Mom let me know my siblings weren’t aware they’d met with me, wouldn’t be happy about it — and abruptly hung up. The next year I called to tell her I’d be less than a mile from their house at my class reunion, my new wife would be with me and I wondered if they’d like to meet her. After consulting with my dad, it was decided I could drop her off. Sure, I told her, I’ll just go somewhere else.
“Oh you don’t need to do that. You can just wait in the driveway,” she replied.
This solution was offered as if a kindness. So we did just that. I parked at a neighbor and old friend’s house, escorted my wife to the driveway as Mom greeted her from the doorway, then walked back to my friend’s. A couple of hours later they’d completed their visit, and I picked her up.
Still think I’m minimizing? I believe I tried twice more to communicate: once when I realized it was their anniversary and a friend suggested I reach out. I left a message on their voicemail that wasn’t returned. And lastly when there was again a class reunion in 2014. I emailed Mom, writing that I’d moved to Mexico, but would be traveling to Michigan and thought there might be some interest in meeting. This time she replied.
“Jon, if we could ever get a communication from you saying you were returning to Jehovah’s Organization we would travel any number of miles to see you. But until then we must continue to obey the command in 2John 10. Mom & Dad”
So no downplaying from me. I’m aware that others have faced much greater difficulty than I among the JWs. But for me it’s indeed been quite a thing to contend with: realizing that your entire family is either (a) so strongly indoctrinated or (b) so fearful of the organizational consequences…that they believe or at least pretend to believe such shunning is actually admonition from God — as opposed to a device used by an authority wishing to retain the control it wields by “protecting” them from one who believes people have a right to use their own minds.
BUT…if the reports are true, there’ve been a number of Scientologists who’ve been stalked, kidnapped and imprisoned when trying to leave. Unlike the JWs who are nutty authoritarians, who will shun you if you leave and who also assert there is no truth outside of their organization, with Scientology they seriously come after you! I am shunned, yes, but no one seems actively involved in ruining my life.
In our case I really just wish my grandmother didn’t answer the door in the 1940s when a Jehovah’s Witness knocked. I wish that in the 17 years that have elapsed since leaving I wasn’t the only family member who allowed himself to consider the religion objectively…to be willing to admit the emperor wore no clothes. I certainly wish my parents, now 90 and 88, would realize allowing the Watchtower Society to persuade them that shunning their own child in order for the organization to maintain a measure of control over them is a bridge too freaking far. This goes for my three siblings too–whoops, make that two. My brother David died this past February with no family member informing me.
Can I take it? I can. I’ve been dealing with it for a long time now. But perhaps a couple of times a year the reality of this ridiculous scenario returns to me.
I’ve decided the only perspective to take with this is to realize–as my friends have heard me say many times before–it was the best and most important thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m not just saying I’m glad I woke up. No. I’m saying that–aside from those occasional moments of frustration mentioned above–I’ve found a way to be glad I was born into that crazy circus of a religion.
I’m glad I accepted it, lived it, knocked on doors, preached it, made a damn fool out of myself–and glad I was actually appointed an elder in the faith at age 29, giving public talks throughout Michigan on Sundays. I’m glad because I appreciate that–despite the persistent indoctrination from birth until age 38–I eventually found the stones to listen to my own conscience, realize I was being manipulated and take the steps needed to walk away and establish an actually authentic life. And I’m convinced this experience has helped me realize I always have the right to question authority–and to come to my own conclusions.
And so do you.
But, after considering the story of Mike Rinder and others, I also have to confess I’m glad the family religion wasn’t Scientology.
