How I Left: My Experience as a Christian Cult Member, Part 9

Leaving a cult is never easy. In some cases, there are physical barriers that keep someone from leaving the cult. In other cases, the only barriers are psychological and yet are not easily crossed. The latter was the case for the cult I belonged to.

I remember hearing more than once, "If God brought you here, it is God's will for you to stay here." The implication, of course, was that it was never God's will for anyone to leave the group. Thus, leaving the group was a sign of sinful rebellion and disobedience to God. It was a sure sign that the person had turned away from the "truth."

On rare occasions, someone would announce to the cult leader that they were going to leave. As soon as that occured, the "flake out" sermons would begin. The leader would use the daily sermon time to rail against those people who had no character and could not be trusted. He lambasted those who start the race, only to quit before the end. No names were ever mentioned in the sermon, but since everyone knew who was leaving, everyone knew who the sermons were about. It was a humiliating process for the people who dared to announce their plans to leave.

Because of that, most people who chose to leave snuck out in the middle of the night, without letting anyone know they were leaving. While still single and living in the "sister's" dorm, I woke up one morning and noticed an empty bed across the room. Hadn't Linda come to bed, I wondered? I felt concerned for her, and wondered if something bad had happened to her. I asked some of the other girls if they had seen Linda. We were all in a bit of a panic, till someone noticed that Linda's few possessions were gone.

Linda had left, without letting any of us know she was leaving. I understood why she did that, of course. She didn't want to endure those sermons about how flaky she was. She also knew that she couldn't talk to anyone, because you never knew who you could trust, or who might rat on you to the cult leader if they knew you were planning to leave. But my heart ached at not having an opportunity to say goodby to her, and having no way to contact her. In spite of, or perhaps even because of the way we were treated, we actually became very close. We were all in that crazy trap together, and it felt like losing a family member when someone left. Even though I understood why she left without telling anyone, it pained me greatly that she didn't feel that she could trust me enough to let me know she was leaving. To this day, I don't know what ever happened to her, or who helped her leave.

Which brings me to my next point -- it was impossible or at least very difficult to leave without some kind of outside help. Since we were never paid for the work we did, we were all very poor, and had no money of our own. Since we worked such long hours, there was no opportunity to look for a job, and even if we had had time to look for a job, we were so closely observed, that it would have been very difficult to job hunt without anyone noticing. We were also very isolated, with very little contact with the rest of the world.

Thankfully, somehow my husband had gotten permission for he and I to go to church on occasion. We were only able to go about once a month, but that was better than nothing. We didn't have a car, and the commune was located outside of the city limits, in a very desolate area. There was also a prison in the area, and the warden of the prison lived near the cult compound. He also happened to attend the church we chose to attend. Because of that, he was able to give us a ride to church when requested.

We never really talked about our experience at the "ministry" to people in the church. I think the control was strong enough that we were afraid to tell anyone what we were going through. But one day, a couple in the church invited us to have lunch in their home after church. We didn't even really know them, but we weren't about to pass up the opportunity for a good meal! So of course we agreed to go to their place for lunch.

During lunch, they asked us a lot of questions, not so much about where we worked and lived, but about our background and that sort of thing. After talking with us for awhile, they looked at each other and nodded. And then the wife (Edie) said, "Steve and I heard that you are looking to leave the ministry you are in and need a place to stay. You're more than welcome to move in with us." My husband and I were both shocked. Unless God told them we were looking to leave, we don't know how they knew we wanted to leave, as we hadn't told anyone of our desire to get out.I later realized they were, in a sense, interviewing us as potential candidates to live in their home. Apparently they were comfortable with us and thus opened their home to us.

They showed us the private bedroom and bathroom that would be ours, for as long as we needed. They lived in a beautiful home in a nice neighborhood, and the very peace and presence of God permeated that place. It didn't matter that we didn't even know them very well; they were giving us a chance for freedom, and we weren't about to pass up the opportunity. So we agreed that we would move in with them and began to make plans to leave the cult.

In spite of the way that we were treated in the cult, we wanted to do everything properly on our end, so we gave them a one month notice regarding our plans to leave. And the flake out sermons began. We were publically ridiculed and privately yelled at and told that we had no character and would never amount to anything. We were also shunned by everyone there. I think everyone knew it would be trouble for them to be associated with us, so they avoided talking to us or being seen with us. It was a hard, long, lonely month, but it was finally over.

Steve and Edie came with their truck to load up the few belongings we had and moved us into their home. They both assured us that we didn't need to pay them anything until we felt ready to do so. They understood that it might take us awhile to find jobs and let us know that they were in no hurry to have us leave. We were more than welcome to stay as long as we needed, without any pressure or demands made on us. We learned at that time that they saw their large home as a gift from God, and they essentially always had someone living with them as a way of showing their appreciation to God for the gift of that home.

We got along incredibly well. I loved to cook and Edie loved to clean, so I did most of the cooking and Edie did most of the cleaning. On occasion I watched their young children for them while they went out for the evening, but they never abused that. They treated us with respect, and like we were part of the family. It was a beautiful, healing time for us. Without their help, I'm not sure where we would be today. I will never forget what they did for us.

(Although I had planned on concluding with this article, I've decided to write what I learned through the experience in a separate article. That will come next.)