My Experience with the International Churches of Christ
by Marisa A. Boonstra
I have now been out of the International Churches of Christ for a longer amount of time than I was in it. I was a member for two years and 8 months, during most of my college career. Since I left, I completed both my undergraduate and graduate degrees, began my first job and got married. I have spoken at different colleges in my area to incoming freshman and upper classmen alike, about my experience in the ICC. I have healed and moved on, far surpassing my expectations for life after the church.
Up until this time I have never actually sat down to write of the details concerning both my joining and leaving the movement. While I wrote, the International Churches of Christ underwent a time of great transition, following the resignation of its leader, Kip McKean. It continues, in fact, to make positive changes away from its abusive practices towards a more loving treatment of its members, focused on the grace of God. The main reason for telling my story publicly is to help those who are beginning to leave at this particular juncture see that they can have a life outside of the church, and a great life at that. Another reason is for me to make more sense out of what happened, from both a Biblical and psychosocial perspective, and to give glory to God for how far along He has brought me. I have included a lot of detail, as I feel it helps readers get a better picture of what the ICC is and how it operates. I have also used pseudonyms where applicable, concerning girls that I recruited, and when describing a member whose situation involved some very personal material.
Before I joined the International Churches of Christ as a freshman in college, I pictured a cult in the same way that many people do. I imagined kooks with shaved heads, wearing long robes, chanting around a head of lettuce. I thought about the Heaven's Gate group who had committed suicide only four months prior, when a comet arrived. I remembered the people who were willing to burn to death in Waco, Texas rather than forsake their allegiance to David Koresh and his brand of religion. These visions were so extreme that I was convinced that the people willing to participate in such bizarre behavior must have been incredibly stupid or mentally ill, not at all like the friends and family I grew up with, not at all like me. I was much too smart and too sane to ever get involved in anything like that.
I do not consider myself to have had a very religious upbringing, although I grew up going to church. My mom and dad attended a liberal Presbyterian church from when I was age four to eighteen. We faithfully went every Sunday until they divorced in 1991. After that, we went every once in a while until it gradually got to the point where we only went on Christmas Eve and Easter. I hardly knew the Bible. Even my confirmation class that I took as a freshman in high school did not equip me with a full understanding of who Jesus Christ was and what He should mean to me. There was no urgency made about believing in Him to have my sins forgiven. In the statement of faith each student had to write at the end of the class, you could write whatever you happened to believe in. I only attended youth group three times while in high school. I was looking for answers to questions I had long had about God and Christianity, and sadly, did not find them there.
In high school, I was a typical teenager. I hung out with girlfriends, went to parties and dated. I graduated with a 3.8 GPA. I looked forward to college that summer, wondering what opportunities the campus would offer, what new friends I'd make and what career path I would choose. I was excited at the prospect of turning over a new page of my life, but also apprehensive about leaving the security of my parents and everything else familiar. I was sad too, that my high school friends and I would be going our separate ways. On August 30, 1997 I moved into my dorm at Monmouth University, a small liberal arts college half a mile from one of the beaches along the Jersey Shore. I quickly became friendly with my roommate and some other girls who lived in my suite. Nine of us shared a crowded suite and a two- stall bathroom with one shower together. Needless to say, over the next few weeks with all of us adjusting to life away from home and the demands of classes, things became tense.
In mid-October, I was invited by a girl named Myrna to an off-campus bible discussion group. Actually, she called it a “Bible Talk”. We met on the train while I was traveling home to visit my family and one of my best friends. This girl was going into New York City to attend a conference. The Bible Talk sounded intriguing to me. I was interested in learning more about God and the Bible at a time in my life when everything seemed so uncertain.
When I returned to campus, it so happened that my high school boyfriend and I ended our relationship. We had been together on and off for a year and a half, and the break-up left me depressed. I had not yet had a chance at that early point in the semester to make many friends, besides my roommate, so I felt even more lonely than ever. Myrna called me later the same day we broke up and asked if I was still interested in coming to the group. I met Myrna the next night in front of one of the academic halls, where I was introduced to another girl, Palak. She would become my best friend in the church and be baptized just five days after me. We chatted for a while and then were picked up by a guy named Paul, who drove us to where the meeting was held. It was at the Bible Talk leader Richard’s home, which he shared with Paul and another guy, Steve.
I was surprised when we arrived that there were not more college students. The people who were at the house seemed to be quite a few years older actually. I was under the impression this was going to be a Bible discussion for Monmouth University students. I figured we were just early and that other students were surely going to start trickling in later. I was wrong. A few more people showed up, but they were all in their upper twenties or older. Brushing the thoughts aside, I turned my attention to the discussion which had begun, led mainly by Richard. I remained quiet the whole time, observing the people and what they said. I believe the discussion was about giving your all for God, and when someone gave their take on the scripture that was presented, they spoke with conviction and assurance.
When it was over, Myrna asked what I thought and I told her it was interesting, that I would like to learn more about the Bible and God. She asked if I would be willing to look at scriptures with her to find these answers. I responded positively. Next, Myrna introduced me to two women, Lisa and Tara. I don’t know how it happened, but all of a sudden I began pouring my heart out to them about the recent breakup with my boyfriend. I had found an outlet for my pain and confusion. They listened sympathetically and said that God could replace the hole in my heart if I would let Him. Right before we left, Myrna mentioned something about a campus retreat taking place that weekend and urged me to go. I politely said no thanks, but she kept insisting that if I went, I could start to find the answers I was seeking and that it would be so much fun. She also said that Palak would be going. So I agreed to go with them and wrote out a check for $50 to the New York City Church of Christ. I was in the habit of calling my mom on a regular basis since I had moved onto campus, so I called and said that I was going on a church retreat that I was still a bit apprehensive about. I had no idea at all what to expect. She asked what church it was and I told her the name. Not thinking anything about it, my mom told me to have a good time and warned me in her usual motherly tone to “be careful”.
Late in the afternoon on Halloween, I left to drive up with Myrna, Palak and another girl, Ruth who was just beginning to study the Bible, to the retreat in upstate New York. When we arrived in the hotel lobby, Myrna was instantly flagged down by several girls who were ecstatic to see her. I remember feeling a little out of place at that point and wondering what I had gotten myself into. The feelings just as quickly went away as we found our room assignments and began lugging our suitcases into the elevator to the right floor. We had an adjoining room to some of Myrna’s friends who she introduced us to. We got acquainted before it was time to go downstairs to the main meeting room. The “service” started around 7:30 and Myrna wanted to make sure we got good seats. Hoards of college students had begun filing into the room well before we made our way to some seats in the obscurity of right hand side. We sat with the girls in the room next to ours, and I wouldn’t pick up on this until months later, but Myrna carefully separated Palak, Ruth and I from sitting together.
The meeting began with an enthusiastic call to start worship from one of the campus leaders. Everyone began singing in unison songs I had never heard before. They did not use any musical instruments for the songs- everybody sang a capella and with great joy and force. The vigor with which everyone around me was singing and clapping their hands actually embarrassed me. It seemed like the singing went on forever. Finally, the “emcee” for the retreat, the campus leader at New York University, introduced the speaker that evening. I don’t remember his name, but the message was about heroes. What stood out to me was that he asked if everyone in the room could say that Jesus Christ was their hero, their idol. I had never heard anything like that before, and I was genuinely intrigued. After he finished speaking, there were several announcements of baptisms being held in the pool later that night. “What in the world is that about”, I wondered to myself. The announcements were followed by more joyous singing. Myrna and her friends stayed up until 2 in the morning while Palak and I went straight to bed.
The next day, during the afternoon, the students who were already “disciples” (Christians) left the meeting room to go to various workshops and those that were not stayed to hear a message specifically directed for us. The message was given by Stacy Fridley, a women’s ministry leader. She and her husband at the time oversaw all of the sectors in New Jersey. She preached about how it was not good enough just “to be good” in order to go to Heaven; you needed Jesus to get there. This absolutely blew me away. It made such perfect sense. After the already and the would-be disciples reunited and joined each other for lunch in another room, I excitedly told Myrna what I had learned. She asked if I wanted to study the Bible with her and another girl after lunch. I said, “of course”.
Myrna conducted the Cross study with me in our hotel room, along with one of the girls from the next room, Theresa. This was a study of Jesus’ death, and it was very graphically portrayed, more than the actual Scriptures showed. Myrna and Theresa wanted to make sure I understood exactly what my sins had done to Jesus. I was both shaken and moved by the account. At the end, Myrna asked if I would pray with her about what I had just learned. This was the first time I was asked to pray out loud. I was a little reluctant to do so and felt self-conscious, but Myrna encouraged and prodded me. The next morning, they had a church service as it was Sunday. I was completely underdressed for the service, being that I had not attended one in nearly four years. There was more of the usual jubilant singing, but then right before the message was given, Myrna’s friend Sara, who was leading worship, sang her own song. I remember Myrna speaking about her as if she were a celebrity. The song was titled “Call To Me”, about Jesus’ relationship with God that had ultimately led him to the cross. The lyrics had a powerful effect on me, as I had just learned what Jesus had gone through to save me the day before, and I began to cry. This, coupled with what I had seen around me the past weekend, the deep commitment of over 500 students to their faith, built up the desire to become a disciple of Jesus. Their sense of purpose and direction was something I longed to have - an anchor both emotionally and spiritually. With this group I also experienced a sense of community, even family. When the service was over and it was time to pack up our rooms to get ready to leave the retreat, I told Myrna I would like to do whatever it took to become a disciple of Jesus. I don’t think she could have been more thrilled.
The night after we came back to Monmouth, there was another Bible Talk at Richard’s. I was very excited to share with the group what I had learned at the retreat, and they were pleased and eager to hear it. In fact, they could barely shut me up long enough to actually start the discussion. Myrna had happily told Palak and I, before it started, that her friend Kelly would be studying the Bible with us afterwards. When she showed up, I was surprised to see a somewhat heavy set woman who appeared in her early thirties, instead of another college aged girl. She did the “Word Study” with the two of us. She led it and Myrna took notes. It was about how the Bible is the authoritative word of God and that it has relevance to our lives today.
Kelly would come to be one of my best friends and role models over the next three years in the church. She became the person I emulated as a godly wife and mother as well. Palak and I baby sat for her two adorable (and well behaved) girls countless times while she and her husband were either at a leaders’ meeting, or out on a date. It was hard to conceive of then that she would turn on me in the worst way imaginable once I left the movement and in a way that still makes me shutter to this day. Kelly was involved in most of my studies towards the end and was instrumental in making sure I was ready to be baptized. She would tell me stories of her life before becoming a disciple, as a high fashion model who schmoozed it up with famous actors. She was very willing to share all of the secrets of her past and of course, expected me to do the same.
A few nights later, I had another study, this time at the sector leaders’ house. Myrna had announced to me and Palak that there would be a gathering of girls for pizza and fun, and afterwards, we would study the Bible. Myrna borrowed Steve’s car to drive the three of us to the Mitchell’s house, which was over an hour away, in Princeton. Margie Mitchell greeted us warmly at the door, holding her two- year old son. I liked her right away. She was a tall, thin woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. When she spoke, she was gentle and non-threatening. She started a conversation with me about one thing or another, and I could tell she was interested in me. There were some other girls in the living room that I was introduced to before we moved into the kitchen. While we were scarfing down slices of pizza, I overheard Margie say that she was eagerly awaiting the return of her husband, Dave, from some sort of conference. The way that she spoke about him showed how much she loved and missed him. I could tell right away that the Mitchell’s were a happily married couple, something that is rare in this day in age. After we finished eating and started chatting with one another, Dave came home. I found him to be very friendly, just like his wife, and easy to talk to. Dave and Margie were like the perfect couple. They were both attractive, well-spoken people and they just looked like they fit together so well. I thought it was very nice of them to open their home to all of us so that we could study God’s word. I ended up studying with two very nice women and while I don’t remember which study we did, I enjoyed learning from them and receiving the attention they gave to me.
One rainy morning a week later, Myrna again drove Palak and me to the Mitchell’s to do the Kingdom study. Margie led the study and began by asking us if we knew what the Kingdom of God was. I thought it was Heaven, and I don’t remember what Palak thought it was, but both of the answers we gave were wrong. Margie told us the Kingdom was actually God’s church here on earth, and that if we were trying to become true disciples we should seek out this church and become a part of it. In a follow-up study to this one, where Palak and I were separated, we would learn that the ICC was this church. It didn’t quite make sense to me at the time, but I smiled and nodded, as they say.
I was most interested during the series about getting to the “Sin Study”. I wanted to learn what the church considered sin (I would find out everything was considered a sin) and what I needed to confess in order to become a disciple. When it came time for this study, I was not afraid of revealing the things I had done which were considered less than holy. Kelly led this study with me while Myrna took notes. I felt that I had nothing to hide and felt extremely accepted by both women, who had similar backgrounds to mine. What I would find disconcerting, however, was that my list of sins were brought up at different points during the rest of the time I studied the Bible. There were times when I actually thought Kelly enjoyed rubbing my past sins in my face, to get me to the point where I was humiliated. Myrna explained that she was doing that to “keep me in check” and to make sure I wasn’t too proud of becoming a disciple. The next study was called "Light and Darkness". During this study, they “proved” I was not saved through a variety of scriptures. I was then asked, "So, if you're not saved, then is your family saved?” I answered "no". I was asked if I would be willing to give them up for the sake of following Jesus. I answered right away, “yes”. I already knew I needed to be baptized, the way they said I had to be and into this church. I was convinced it was the only true Christian church, with the only group of saved people.
It turns out that Kelly did consider me too prideful anyway (believing that I only wanted to get baptized for my own glory), and in order to “break me” she showed me a videotape of the crucifixion of Jesus. Kelly, Myrna, Tara and I watched it in Kelly’s living room. It would take months before I was actually comfortable being in that same house, because of what would take place there. The women were looking for a certain reaction to the tape from me, I would figure out later. I had the right response. I started crying uncontrollably once the video was done playing and could barely eek out an audible prayer when it was my turn to pray. Kelly was well pleased and told me I would be ready to be baptized the next day. She asked me though if I would be willing to fast up until the baptism to show God I was serious about my decision. She said she and Myrna would do the same. I was hesitant because I had never fasted before in my life and was a little scared of not eating anything for an entire day. Kelly suggested I fast on bread and water however so that I would not completely wither away. I agreed and then Tara drove Myrna and I back to campus. I returned late to my dorm room exhausted and dizzy.
The next day, after my classes were done, I meditated on a whole list of scriptures Kelly had given me to look over before the final study that night. I had a lot of free time since I was not going back and forth to the dining hall to get anything to eat. Around 6 pm, I met Myrna and Kelly in the lounge of Myrna’s dorm. By that time, I was absolutely famished but determined to follow through with the study in order to be baptized. It was something I had dreamed about for the past three weeks and my adrenaline was the only thing that kept me going. Kelly opened up in prayer and then proceeded to go through the scriptures I had looked at earlier that day. They had to do with tithing, dating only members of the church, confessing sin, getting advice from other members and the fact that all other denominations were not the “true church”. I agreed with all of these scriptures because I didn’t know any better, but was confused about the tithing as I was not familiar with that. Kelly explained that the book of Malachi taught that disciples should give ten percent of their income back to God, “the first fruits of their labor”. I told her I understood what that meant, but seeing as how I only had a meager work study job, how could I possibly contribute my own 10% each week? Kelly was clearly concerned about my lack of faith on this issue and said that God would provide for me if I gave back to Him. After all, she stated, the money and all my possessions belonged to Him anyway. I think back on this now and wonder if this scripture had been shown to me in the first few studies if I would have been so eager to accept it. While I do agree with giving ten percent, the fact that Kelly didn’t reveal this to me until the very last study shows that the church had something to hide, and furthermore, the Church’s idea of tithing was giving under compulsion. I decided to accept what she said. I thought, okay I’m just being faithless about this. I need to trust God more.
Before I knew it, the study was over and Kelly, Myrna and I took turns praying. They both gave me huge hugs and said how happy they were that I had decided to follow Jesus. Kelly drove us over to Richard’s house where I changed into my baptismal clothes. We were joined by Kelly’s husband Keith and their two daughters, along with the other members of our Bible Talk. We gathered in a circle in the living room, Keith prayed over me, then Myrna read a scripture I had selected, about no longer walking in darkness, but following Jesus to have the light of life. Myrna asked me what my “good confession” was and I replied “Jesus is Lord!” Then she and Kelly came with me upstairs to the bathroom where I would be baptized in a tub full of lukewarm water. They held me under for less than a second, and when I came up, there were shouts of happiness and tears of joy on both women’s faces. I stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around myself, after they left me to change into dry clothes, wanting to savor every second of that moment. I thought that I should have felt different, but I did not feel anything other than the fear of sinning again. After I had changed, our Bible Talk went out for a late dinner and I broke my fast. I had almost forgotten I hadn’t anything other than a bagel and a few pieces of bread in almost 24 hours. It was nearly 10:30 when we arrived at the diner down the street. There, I was given flowers and a card signed by all the members of the Bible Talk. I felt like I was on cloud nine.
Following my baptism, I truly entered what they call the “honeymoon period”. I went out on several dates; the first one was with the campus leader, Jim, and we tripled with Palak and Myrna and their dates. The brothers and sisters alike paid a lot of attention to me and made me feel really special. I started to get to know Kelly better and developed a deep relationship with her during this time. I loved babysitting her two daughters in her home. I also relished learning more about the Bible and God through church and Midweek services, and I couldn’t get enough of Dave’s sermons. I quickly learned the “lingo” of the Kingdom; such words as “awesome” and “fired up”. I was excited that I had finally found my purpose in life and that I was a part of an elite group- one of the few selected for God’s Kingdom.
I remember though, despite the honeymoon, there were some things that really bothered me. Myrna was assigned as my discipling partner, and she and I butted heads over almost everything. We are both very opinionated people to start with and our personalities often clashed. She being an outspoken, African American girl from a tough neighborhood, and me a shy, quiet White girl from suburbia. We would later remark on several occasions that it was only God who could have brought such two different women together to be friends. I still believe to this day that Myrna was very sincere in trying to get me to become a Christian and that her relationship with God was very personal. It actually impressed me and I wanted to strive to have that same kind of relationship.
However, our friendship was strained because neither one of us were willing to understand where the other person was coming from. Our backgrounds had put us in the unique roles we were in, but Myrna wanted to make me into something I was not. She did not understand that I needed my personal space and that I would not share everything with her just because she wanted me to. She would hound me especially for not inviting people to church every day. I was extremely shy, as mentioned before, and was uncomfortable inviting total strangers to church events and meetings. I loved my new life as a Christian and did share my faith out of that love, but when I was pressured to do it, it lost its meaning and joy. I believe I grew very afraid to tell others about the church because of that.
I also did not like the fact that we had to drive so far out of the way to get to church. The services were held in the New Brunswick area, forty-five minutes to an hour away from where we were. For a couple of months until Myrna bought her own car, the three of us girls had to carpool with one of the guys from our Bible Talk, or Lisa, Palak’s discipler. It became exhausting, all the running around we had to do. At the time, I figured it was completely worth it, because it was God’s church, I thought. Another thing that bothered me was the mandatory fasting. Sometimes the call to fast came from the sector leaders, sometimes from our own individual Bible Talk, but I would always get a knot in my stomach when I was told about it. There were “loopholes” made though, meaning we could fast from something other than food. One time I fasted from soda for a day, another time on only fruits and liquids, and another from make-up for three whole weeks!
Another thing that was very hard to deal with was my family, especially my mother’s, reaction to my involvement with the church. They were convinced I had joined a cult. I just saw this as evidence of persecution for being a member of the real church of God. The test of my faith came very early on as a disciple, during the Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks when I was home, away from the “body of believers”. I had actually been baptized one week prior to Thanksgiving, so Myrna wasn’t sure how well I would do during those four days with my family. So she called me every day and even had other members call me on a regular basis. My mom grew concerned when she would pick up the phone every few hours, greeted by people she had never heard of before, all asking for me. She asked why I had people keeping tabs on me. I told her that these were my new friends from church and that they were just being friendly. She didn’t buy it and felt that the church had something to hide.
During the Christmas break a few weeks later, we got into several arguments over my involvement. My mom did not take it well when I informed her that I would not be going to church with them on Christmas Eve. I explained that I had already found “the one true church” and didn’t need to waste time going to another that I knew wasn’t preaching the Gospel. Despite her misgivings, my mother actually agreed to go with me to the church’s Christmas service, which was a good hour away. I could tell she was very uncomfortable the entire time and couldn’t get out of there fast enough when it was over. The service had lasted well beyond the time I told her it would end and she wasn’t interested in meeting all one hundred of my new closest and dearest friends. Driving back, I asked her what she thought and she replied that she felt the church was being deceptive, while she had found the sermon interesting. I was dismayed by her answer. I said incredulously, “Mom, how can you think they are hiding something when you went to their service and saw for yourself how it was?” I did not know that she had already gone to see an exit counselor, an expert in mind control, at the beginning of December and knew all of what the church was keeping from its rank and file members. Needless to say, another argument ensued and we both returned home feeling frustrated and upset. I had the most miserable Christmas ever that year.
A week before I returned back to campus, I drove up with my best friend from high school to her college in Massachusetts. Her classes for the Spring semester started earlier than mine and I helped her move back in. I was strongly urged not to go though when I mentioned my trip to Myrna. I would be leaving on a Sunday morning and that would mean missing church. I told her that we had planned this visit since before I had even met Myrna and I could not (and did not) want to change plans. She compromised and suggested I talk to my friend and ask her if we could leave later on Sunday so that I could still attend church. I promised I would do so, but my friend said that the trip would take about four hours and she wanted to have enough time to get settled in, as classes started early the next day. I said I understood and didn’t want to argue with her. I felt it was unfair of me anyway to make that kind of request. I went back and told Myrna we couldn’t leave later and that I was going, despite what she said. She and another member showed me all kinds of scriptures about the issue, but I wouldn’t budge. Myrna finally said to pray about it and seek God’s advice. About an hour before my friend picked me up that Sunday morning, I got a phone call from Myrna. She asked if I was coming to church and I told her no. She became very upset by this and rebuked me for going on the trip instead of attending God’s church. I listened to her rant, but did not change my mind. I told Myrna I had to finish packing and would see her in a week. I hung up and instructed my mom and sister not to answer the phone. No sooner had I gotten upstairs that the phone began to ring again. It rang one more time after that too. I should state here that, as time went on, I became less and less able to stand up for myself when given an “order”. This example above is not, unfortunately, typical of my behavior within the church.
Soon after I came back to Monmouth in the middle of January, Palak and I swapped discipling partners (not by our own choice, of course). Myrna would now disciple Palak, and Lisa would disciple me. I knew Lisa then on a shallow level, because she was in our Bible Talk and drove us back and forth to church. She had also had Myrna, Palak and I over to her apartment a few times for mini-devotionals and to hang out. Lisa was quite a few years older than me, and thought she had me all figured out too. She wasn’t afraid to say what was on her mind either, whether it was kind or not. I remember her one time looking straight at me and saying, “You know, Marisa, sometimes you can be really rude.” I was stunned that she had actually said that to my face and didn’t know how to respond. She also had me pegged as selfish and a complainer, so those were the sins that I had to work on repenting of.
Lisa could be very harsh sometimes. She reamed me out once for not paying another member back five dollars that I owed. I had borrowed the money to buy a calling card so that on breaks, I wouldn’t rack up the phone bill at my house by calling so many members. I told her I had every intention of paying the girl back and that I did have the money, but I just kept forgetting. Lisa wouldn’t accept that. She said that forgetfulness was really selfishness since I wasn’t actively thinking about giving the money back all the time. I disagreed with her and started to cry because she was being so ungracious. She told me to pray and that “my tears better not be for myself” when I asked for God’s forgiveness.
Lisa surprisingly was nice when she wanted to be. One time she canceled our discipling time and surprised me by taking me to a movie I had been wanting to see. Another time, she took Palak, Myrna and me on a surprise trip, which she paid for entirely. I never knew what to expect with Lisa, and that was a big problem. Being discipled by her had more bad points than good ones though. The only thing we had in common was that we were the only disciple in our family; not much feed for common ground. Lisa was a practical thinker and that clashed with my personality. I am primarily a “feeler” and like to analyze things. She thought I focused too much on my feelings though. It seemed whatever I did or said, it was never good enough for her.
The highlight of our discipling relationship, was our special D-group (discipleship group) at Stacy Fridley’s house. We had both been invited to attend a weekly training “seminar” that would last through the beginning of Spring. Lisa thought this was because Stacy was prepping us for some type of leadership. I was very excited by this prospect and loved going every Saturday morning up to the Fridley’s. They lived in almost two hours north of Monmouth University in Northern New Jersey. This area of the country is generally known for being affluent and the Fridley’s were no exception. Their house was enormous. Today, their house would be worth upwards of half a million dollars, to give you an idea. They had a two- car garage, an above ground pool built into their deck, and a Jacuzzi. As a college student with a limited worldview at that time, I just thought this was how all adults with children lived.
Aside from having a gorgeous house and three well-behaved kids, Stacy Fridley was an attractive, sophisticated woman who could preach anyone into becoming a Christian. I looked up to her as the woman who first showed me how lost I was, with her message several months ago at the Campus Retreat. I got the opportunity to tell her what an impact she had made on my life a few months prior when she spoke at a region-wide service. I think she took a liking to me instantly and I obviously made some kind of impression on her because there I was, at her house ready to embark on a leadership training “expedition”. Stacy was genuinely friendly and more than happy to open her home to all of us. We gathered in her finished basement for the lessons. The women who sat around me were mostly college students or in the singles ministry. A few were in high school yet. One high school senior approached me after the meeting was over the first day and introduced herself. She said, “I wanted to come over and meet you. Your testimony was really impacting.” (We had to say a little about ourselves at the start of the meeting). She told me her name was Shelly, and we began to talk for a little while. We had exchanged numbers by the end and over the next few weeks, we talked more and quickly became friends. She told me she was going to Rutgers University in the Fall and would love to keep in touch after the sessions were over. Shelly was one of those girls who normally would have intimidated me- she was very pretty and didn’t seem to have any flaws.
Over the next few weeks, I heard nothing back from anyone about the outcome of the leadership training. This was in April of 1998. I was under the impression that I would become a Bible Talk leader, or even start discipling someone else, but nothing came of it. I felt misled. Church began to be a burden for me. Previous concerns, like which career I would pursue after college or when I would meet my true love and start a family, were considered petty and selfish in comparison to our lofty, shared mission. These issues were purposefully pushed out of my mind along with my former personality, hobbies, likes and dislikes and such frivolous pleasures as reading a good mystery novel or going to the mall. My own interests didn't matter anymore because now I was marching to the music of a higher calling. I also had to confess all of my sins of both thought and action on a regular basis to Lisa, which I hated. The women, at least, were given specific direction to get “spiritually nosy” with one another and told over and over that “there are no secrets in the Kingdom”. This meant that whoever wanted to could insist on retrieving personal information from me under the guise of helping me become the best I could for God.
I was attending every meeting the church held. There were Sunday and Wednesday (Midweek) night services, weekly Bible talks, Friday night college devotionals and Saturday night dates with other members. I remember hearing more than a few times during my membership that we should go to bed exhausted at the end of the day because of all the “things we did for God”. Between meetings which always ended late and an early wake- up call to read my Bible and pray (obligatory quiet time), my schedule was completely full and it seemed that I never had enough rest or time to study for my regular college courses. I had to keep up with all of this, plus ask people on a daily basis to church or Bible Talk. I would engage in conversation with anyone about anything, all to work the conversation towards an invitation to church events (parties, services, discussions, individual studies). Sleep deprivation and over-stimulation from the church's demands triggered my fear of reprimand for “misdeeds” and it made it hard to think straight.
Dating outside of the church was a giant no-no, and in addition, you were not supposed to turn down an offer for a date from another church member because these evenings were viewed as an opportunity to nurture and develop pure spiritual relationships between men and women. The dating life in our sector left a lot to be desired however. The sisters far outnumbered the brothers, and there were even fewer brothers that one would even want to date. I couldn’t turn down the dates, however, because that would be discouraging to the brothers, and also unsubmissive and selfish. After a while it seemed like I was “old news” anyway and was rarely asked out on dates. Palak and I used to joke that we must have been “undatable”, a term one Seinfeld episode made popular, or appeared freakish in some way to the brothers. We both considered ourselves (and validated one another) to be attractive and intelligent women so we declared that it was the brothers’ faults, not ours.
I was also advised to limit my interactions with non-members, including friends and family visits home, because prolonged exposure to their lack of belief would distract me, dilute my commitment and perhaps even corrupt my purpose. One time I was even told not to speak with any of my friends from high school anymore. I dutifully gave my portion of tithe every week to the church as well. As a work-study student earning only about $80 every two weeks, I gave less than 10% of each paycheck to the church because I simply could not afford to give $8 every week. In June that year I was also obligated to give 20 times my weekly donation, or $100 in my case, as a "Special Missions Contribution". I had no idea how I would come up with that money. As it turns out, I found about $90 in an envelope in my nightstand drawer one day. I do not remember what I was saving the money for, but I used it towards the contribution.
Most likely this is starting to sound like a cult to you by now, but in my blind exhaustion I couldn't discern between what was truth and what was not. Besides, a cult was a place where they drank poisoned Kool-Aide and committed suicide, and no one was asking me to kill myself for the cause, so how could this be a cult? What I didn't realize was that something was beginning to be murdered, and that was my spirit. The group was subtly and intentionally breaking down my self-esteem and my ability to think for myself. I was terribly unhappy but when I began to let myself question whether this was truly God’s church, I countered my own thoughts with rationalizations. After all, I was following the Bible and being obedient to God's will - a spiritual warrior in training, no different than any athlete preparing for the upcoming Olympics. The path to God is narrow and rocky, but there is no other way to get there.
Before the end of the semester, my mother and stepfather sold the house I grew up in. We would be moving to a town thirty minutes north of us, and that meant changing sectors since I didn’t have my own car. The closing was on July 1, so at the New Jersey Anniversary Service in the middle of June, Myrna introduced me to some disciples who were a part of this sector, called Metro East. I recognized two of the girls from the training sessions at the Fridley’s. I chatted with them and we exchanged numbers so I could hook up with them when I moved. Because of the demographics of the area the sector was located in, the membership was about 95% African American and 5% Hispanic and other ethnicities. As a white girl who had just moved to a gated community, I was a fish out of water. I tried wholeheartedly to engage myself in the campus ministry, but despite my best efforts, I found it difficult to relate to nearly all of the girls there. They seemed immature and disrespectful.
Thankfully, I was discipled by Teikoa, who was one of the more mature members. She practically led the campus ministry at that time. Teikoa and I got along pretty well and found we had a lot in common, despite our backgrounds. Her discipler was Daisy Polanco, the women’s sector leader. Daisy was very friendly and extremely helpful in smoothing the transition to Metro East, thank goodness. She would later unfortunately be replaced by Migdalia Gomez, who I did not care for. Migdalia was in her mid-twenties, and like all leaders was beautiful, sophisticated and very articulate. She was considered “sharp”, and that’s what the church favored. Throughout my membership in the ICC, I did not see or meet one leader that did not fit this “cookie cutter” description.
Much to my surprise, my mother allowed me to use the car I shared with my sister for part of this summer. I was able to drive back and forth to services and as a result, ended up giving different members rides to all kinds of places. Most of these members lived in urban neighborhoods. I didn’t realize this at the time, but I was putting myself at risk by driving through these areas late at night to drop them off after a meeting was over. One Sunday, I had picked up a car- load full of sisters and we were heading to a service in Newark when I ran over a nail that ripped a whole in one of my tires. Luckily, I was a few feet away from a gas station when this happened. I pulled in and the attendant helped me put the donut tire I had in my trunk on the car. We showed up at church thirty minutes late. Afterwards, all I wanted to do was get home to where I was sure I would be safe because I knew driving on a donut was not a good idea. The other members that I still had to drop off did not understand my urgency and thought I was worrying needlessly. Whether they saw it as a big deal or not, the fact that I was the driver and was doing them a favor (I wasn’t even requiring gas money from them), they should have been kind enough to at least try and understand my plight. Instead, they hung around after the service was over talking for close to half an hour. I was growing more anxious by the minute and annoyed.
When I finally did arrive home and relayed the story to my mom, she had decided she did not want me to drive the car to anything church-related anymore. She said if I insisted on being involved with something she did not approve of while I still lived under her roof, I could find my own means of getting to services. So for the rest of the summer, I relied on a few “good souls” to get to church, and when necessary I took two busses to Midweek service. By the end of the summer, I was looking quite forward to moving back onto campus and having the freedom again to go to services without all the arguments with my mom. I was also looking forward to being in the sector I was used to, one where I actually had some friends. I really felt that the Central Jersey sector was a family, and I missed Dave and Margie’s style of preaching.
Shortly after I moved back onto campus Labor Day weekend, a bomb was dropped. Without warning one evening at Midweek service, Matt and Stacy Fridley came down to announce that Dave and Margie would be leaving leadership and would be replaced by another couple from the Northeast sector, the Carrillo’s. Michele Carrillo was very different than Margie, and the more I got to know her, the less I liked her. She was a peanut of a woman, standing at 4’10”. It seemed as if every Wednesday night service, she had a different hair color than the previous week. It was always various shades of red or blonde, or both at the same time. I figured she was just trying to be “hip” and relatable to all of the college students. Even though she was a tiny woman, she had the ability to tear you to pieces with her harsh words and shrill tone of voice. I found her to very mean and unapproachable, while most of the other campus girls raved about how spiritual and friendly she was. I often wondered if we were speaking about the same woman. Her husband, Robert was just as mean and unfriendly. From the podium on Sundays and Wednesday nights, he seemed nice, funny, even charming. But in person, he was like a big grizzly bear waiting to tear us up and spit us out.
After Robert and Michele had been in our sector for a year, Robert still didn’t know what my name was. He made no attempt to know anything about me- I was a nobody to him since I wasn’t getting up at Midweek bragging about how many people I had invited to church. The difference between the Mitchell’s and the Carrillo’s was staggering. The Carrillo’s were focused on numbers; after all, that’s what they were brought in to accomplish. The church just wasn’t “cranking” like it needed to be. I guess the Fridley’s or whomever felt that Dave and Margie weren’t doing a good job of bringing people into the church. They were too focused on loving the people that they were in charge of. What a terrible thing! I had a chance to ask Margie why she and Dave were leaving, and she said that they wanted to concentrate on their family first. That made sense to me, since Margie was pregnant with her second child then. She made it seem like they decided this on their own, but it always seemed fishy to me.
I was rooming with Palak in a suite of (again) nine girls and loving it. We grew closer during this time in our shoebox- sized room, sharing clothes, listening to each other’s CDs, watching our favorite TV programs together and swapping stories of our days before joining the church. Myrna was assigned to disciple both of us at the same time. It was more like she was the mother hen and we were her baby chicks though. We called (or tried to call) Myrna every night with our "stats" of people coming to church, studies, events, and in turn she would call Becca, her discipler and Becca would relay that information over to Michele. It was ludicrous. Many nights Palak and I studied late in the library and once 10 o’ clock rolled around, we would have to go to the second floor where the campus phone was and call Myrna. I can just imagine what other students thought as they heard us on the phone. Not only were we disturbing their studying, we were rambling on about how many people we invited that day to church! Sometimes I would honestly just make up numbers and names to avoid being rebuked. Myrna never knew the difference and how would she have ever found out?
One time at the beginning of the year, Palak and I went to the movies and didn’t share with anyone. Myrna questioned if we asked anyone to come to church while we were out that night and we reluctantly said no. One of us was on the phone with her and she stated that she was coming over to “have a talk with us”. We said it was late and time for bed, couldn’t this wait until tomorrow? Apparently not. Myrna showed up at our dorm and called again for one of us to let her in. It ended up being me. Palak refused to let her in and pretended to be asleep when she entered. I took the brunt of the rebuking and hated every second of it.
Another time, Palak decided she wasn’t coming to Midweek and that she needed time to think over whether she wanted to remain in the church. I talked to Kelly about my sadness over the situation and she actually said that if Palak wasn’t “doing well spiritually”, she didn’t want her baby-sitting for her daughters anymore. Myrna told me what the “game plan” would be for when I went back to our room later that night, not that I had asked. I would wake Palak up if she was sleeping and talk to her, then use the pay phone in the hall to call Myrna with the results. I thought that this idea was stupid and told her I did not want to do this. Waking Palak up and forcing her to talk was just going to make her angry and probably push her away even more, I reasoned. Myrna wouldn’t hear of it. By the end of the conversation, I found myself agreeing to the most ridiculous plan ever concocted.
Myrna was so legalistic, it was maddening. She demanded we meet with her at the drop of a hat, compile lists of the women we were “reaching out to” and pick up the phone every time she called. She branded Palak “prideful” and me “selfish” and asked why we always gave her a hard time when she asked us to do something. Luckily, her discipler was not this way. Becca Johnston was the single women’s ministry leader, another “sharp” woman. She seemed to keep Myrna in check whenever she went on a “pharisaical rampage”. Once, we were having a get together for the girls we were reaching out to at Myrna’s on-campus apartment, and Myrna insisted that we watch a certain movie with them that Palak and I didn’t agree with. Becca told Myrna in front of the two of us that we should pick a movie that would be “relatable” to all of the girls. I was so grateful to her for this. I can honestly say, Becca is someone who earned respect and allegiance, not commanded it. She didn’t lord her leadership over our heads and demand that we follow her. She was kind-hearted, like Margie, and I genuinely liked her.
During this year, we had several girls that we were trying to have baptized. No matter who had met whichever girl, the three of us were equally as responsible for studying the Bible with her. Most of our time was taken up with studies which Palak and I were not yet adept at teaching, so we naturally took the notes. I know most people would describe these girls as recruits, but I think the more accurate term to be applied here would be “projects”. We literally tried to turn these young women into what we thought they should have been. As a result, I don’t think there was a whole lot of teaching them the truth about Jesus, only pushing them to believe something that went against most of their consciences. It’s really sad to have to admit this. I did try to have a friendship with the girls I was reaching out to, but since the ultimate goal was baptizing them, that relationship was shallow at best.
On November 20, 1998, my spiritual birthday, a football player at Rutgers was baptized. There was a lot of hoopla over this in our sector because, after all, there was no one “sharper” than a football player and it was expected that the entire football team would be reached out to as a result. The Rutgers Campus Ministry was cranking from that point on and was praised at every Midweek it seemed. It was as if, anybody who’s anybody is in the Rutgers ministry, including Shelly. I went to visit her in the Fall and stayed overnight at her dorm. Rutgers appeared large and unfriendly to me while I was there and I had no interest in going there, even if the ministry was “on fire”. About six months later, another football player was baptized and by the end of the spring semester, the ministry had doubled in size.
It was sometime during the Fall semester that our sector, now led by the Carrillos, underwent a reconstruction. All members were supposed to have “life talks” with a leader to determine if they truly met the requirements of being a disciple and could be allowed to stay in the church. I thought that things up to that point had been going along fine and didn’t understand why they needed to do this. Myrna, Palak and I had our talks with Becca at her house. They all went on without a hitch. At the end of mine, Becca asked if there was anything in the Bible that I had a hard time following or believing. I thought for a few moments and then replied that I sometimes didn’t understand the roles God had given to men and women and what submission was all about. Becca showed me a few scriptures that satisfied my answers and then lent me a book to read on the subject. It was entitled “The Rules”, about (in my opinion) games women should play in order to get men to date and eventually marry them. I had tried to read that same book while I was in high school and found it to be ridiculous. I skimmed it over once I had gotten back to campus and then tossed it aside, disgusted. The dating in the church itself appeared to be all about rules and steps to follow if you were interested in someone. I always wondered why you couldn’t just tell the person directly that you liked them, as long as you weren’t pushy about it. The rules were that you had to go that person’s discipling partner first and state your interest and then if you got a positive response, your DP would talk to the other person’s, and they would basically set everything up. I would go through this “hoop jumping” eventually myself and feel betrayed by the system that, ironically was designed not to let anyone get hurt.
Shortly after the Winter break, it became apparent that I could not stay at Monmouth University, because tuition was outrageous and I was not getting any scholarships to cover those costs. I also felt unchallenged by the academia there. So I made the radical decision to transfer schools and applied to a few different colleges in New Jersey, including… Rutgers. I was accepted to all of them, but in the end Rutgers just seemed like the better choice. I was accepted into their Social Work program and only lost nine credits in transferring. Because of my major, I had to graduate from Livingston College and live on that campus. I was wary of living with a student who wasn’t an ICCer, so I asked around the Rutgers ministry if anyone was planning on rooming in a Livingston dorm. One girl said her sister was coming to that campus in the Fall and she would talk to her about living with me. I wasn’t sure the college would let a freshman live with a junior, but they ended up putting us together in a transfer/freshman dormitory. To my delight, Palak decided to transfer to Rutgers also.
We had been studying with a girl who proved promising in becoming a disciple and we ran out of semester before she was ready to be baptized. She lived a few towns away from me and so guess whose responsibility it was to finish the studies with her? Myrna put a lot of pressure on me to get this girl connected in the Metro East sector and follow up with her. I felt like I had been given a huge burden to bear and fought Myrna on it. I can remember sitting in my dorm room on the floor with my arms crossed, avoiding looking at her. She said, “Marisa, if you don’t do this, who else will?” I didn’t have an answer to that, but I thought, just can it be anyone but me for once? Of course, I ended up doing it because I felt I had no other choice.
I think more than half of the school year was over before I realized that I hadn’t done anything just for me and I was growing tired of it. Another year of college had gone by and I hadn’t joined any clubs, made any friends outside of the church or went on a date with any guy I was remotely interested in. I really thought that in order to be a Christian though, I had to deny myself all of the pleasures of life, and that loving others meant not loving myself. I felt like I was in a bubble, which from the church’s stance, meant I was “protected” from the evils of the world, but all I felt was that I wasn’t allowed to experience anything. One day, a week before finals, Palak and I did do something just for ourselves, without the goal of finding some poor soul to invite to church. She had lamented herself the entire year that anytime something was going on, on campus, we couldn’t go because we had to do something with the church instead. So we went to the Spring Carnival Monmouth was having and ate snow cones, played the cheesy games, and walked around campus taking pictures of all the beautiful scenery. We should have felt so good afterwards, but instead felt guilty for not having done any evangelizing that day. How sad.
When I moved back home for the summer of ‘99, I went to work making sure “Gwen” would be baptized and could study with someone who knew the studies better than I did. My main priority though, was finding a summer job. I got one as a hostess at T.G.I. Friday’s at the local outdoor shopping mall. My employer honored the fact that I needed Tuesday nights off because of Midweek, but I couldn’t ask for any other days off because they desperately needed people to work weekends, their busiest time. I got flack from my discipler (Teikoa again) and other members for this, but there was nothing I could do. I simply had to miss some Friday night devotionals and Saturday date nights when I was put on the schedule. I explained that I wasn’t going to quit as I really needed the money, and the job was close enough to my house that I could walk so it was very convenient in case my sister ended up needing to use the car we shared.
The middle of May, Gwen was getting very close to being baptized. One of the campus sisters who lived in the same town as Gwen, Jasmine, took over leading the studies while I sat in and took notes. We had two more studies to do and I was supposed to meet Jasmine at her house to study with Gwen before going to Midweek, but that night was my father’s birthday. My sister and I had planned to take him out for dinner. I called Jasmine and told her I couldn’t meet them for the study because I had other plans. She couldn’t believe that I was “abandoning” Gwen when she was so close to becoming a disciple and told me I had better be there. I said there was no way I could change the plans I had made; it’s my dad’s birthday, for heaven’s sake! What did she expect me to do- ask my dad to move his birthday to another day just so I could study the Bible with them? Couldn’t the study wait until the next day, I asked? Jasmine was unwilling to compromise and retorted that if we wait, Gwen could be killed and then she would never be saved. She was livid at me, and I’ve never had anyone speak to me with such audacity. I think I hung up on her before she could say good-bye. I was shaking afterwards, I was so angry and hurt at the same time. “Who does she think she is?!” I almost screamed out loud. I actually contemplated leaving the church at that moment. After I had calmed down, I thought better of it and proceeded to go out to dinner with my father and sister. I had my dad drive me afterwards to Midweek so I could still “show my support” for Gwen even though I had missed the stupid study. Gwen couldn’t have cared less that I wasn’t there and thought I was silly for apologizing a hundred times for missing it.
Gwen was baptized on May 20, 1999. The night of her baptism, I thought I should have felt elated that someone I had studied with had made it into God’s Kingdom- I had finally been personally fruitful which was a huge deal in the church. Instead, I had an altogether different feeling. I was trying to fake my happiness, something I had become adept at doing, and felt like I had completely disassociated myself from my surroundings. Some other members noticed I was not myself and asked me what was wrong. I told them I was just tired from staying up to study the Bible with Gwen.
Since I had baptized Gwen, I was under the impression that I would now be her discipling partner. A few days later, I was on the phone with Teikoa who told me that she and Migdalia didn’t feel that I was doing well enough spiritually and hadn’t fully ingrained myself in the sector, so another campus girl would disciple Gwen. I was so choked up that I could barely speak. She asked me how I felt about that, and I replied, “extremely disappointed”, while thinking to myself “just what do you expect me to feel?” I wanted to leave the church again after that conversation. But as always, I just prayed about it and stuffed my feelings down and decided to “get on board”. I made every effort to grow in my relationships with the other sisters, have a calendar full of dates, and attend every service, including weekly campus Bible talks held before Midweek started. Towards the end summer, I actually found myself enjoying Metro East and was deemed as doing very well spiritually. I celebrated my 20th birthday there and the campus ministry threw a well-planned surprise party for me at Midweek since my birthday was the same night. Palak came up to spend that weekend with me and we had a double date for every night she was here. These are some of the best memories of my time in the ICoC.
I made friends instantly, too, with a girl my age who had been baptized in June. She lived about ten minutes away from my house, and I was excited since she was the only white campus girl in our sector, beside me. “Catie” was very interesting and fun to hang out with. She had come from a rough background and had no problems sharing about her life with me. She was like a breath of fresh air since I felt I didn’t have to prove anything to her; I could just be myself. Catie began telling me about the struggle she was having with the church’s addiction recovery group and she asked me for advice. What I gathered from her was that the leaders of the group were very unforgiving. They would tell her to leave if she showed up a few minutes late (because she had to take a bus there or rely on someone else to drive her) and assumed she wasn’t really serious about getting help. Meanwhile, she did show up at every meeting they had and continuously expressed wanting to get help to both her discipler and another leader. I felt that the group was being unfair and preventing her from receiving help. Catie had also mentioned to me that before she could get baptized she had to write down, in detail, every single time she had ever used drugs or alcohol and the consequences that followed. I believe that the uncaring nature of the “recovery” group was a big factor that led her to leave the church at the end of the summer, which left me heart- broken.
In August, despite my “growth” as a disciple, I began to miss my spending time with friends from my past life, the ones I was warned not to hang out with. Not telling anyone in the campus ministry about it, I started getting together with such a group of friends and ended up hitting it off with one guy who was a friend of a friend. I found that we had a lot in common and he was very easy to talk to, unlike most of the guys in the church who seemed so focused only on “saving the lost” that it was like they were on another planet. We would spend hours talking and before I knew it, I had developed feelings for him. I knew that it was against church policy to even spend time alone with this guy, let alone date him, so I knew nothing could come of this. I tried to squash the feelings, but they kept growing.
One night we were hanging out as a group in one person’s basement and he took me aside to let me know he liked me. I told him I felt the same way, but that it couldn’t go any further than that. I wouldn’t tell him why because it would have sounded ridiculous. I mean come on, how could I say, “Well, I would go out with you but it goes against my church’s beliefs”? I told him to please just respect my decision and not ask me why. He was very confused, but he agreed not to push the issue. Afterwards, I felt so guilty that I had even let things get this far that I decided to just tell my discipler everything so I could “purge” myself of my sin. We were meeting at Migdalia’s house the next night for a campus girls’ devotional and after it was over, I pulled Teikoa aside and told her I needed to speak to her right away about something important. I said that it really couldn’t wait so I was willing to drive her over to my house and then drive her back, as late as it was. I actually had the car because the only way to get it was to tell my mom that I was working late that night.
Once we were “safe” inside my room, I spilled the entire story to Teikoa in between tears. She listened sympathetically. I said that I had prayed and asked God’s forgiveness, and I was not going to have anything to do with this boy again. She believed me, but proceeded to tell me how grateful I should be to God for not letting it get any further than it did. She actually said, that because I had put myself in a situation with a group of people (including guys) who were not Christians, that I could have gotten raped by this guy and his friends. I said that was insane and that she didn’t know these people at all to be saying such a thing. Of course though, I was considered wrong and she was right. I ended up agreeing, against my will, that that could have happened. Teikoa said she wanted me to talk with Migdalia about everything. I really did not want to do this, because for one I didn’t know Migdalia very well and because I didn’t know her, I didn’t trust her. The only one I had wanted to divulge my “sin” to was Teikoa- after all, she had discipled me for the past two summers while I was at home. I guess I would have been fine with talking to Migdalia, if it had been in private, but Teikoa insisted I talk to her the next night at our campus get together. It was in the bowling alley, of all places too.
The three of us gathered in a corner, which gave the allure of privacy, but it was anything but that. I kept my voice low as I recounted the story to Migdalia since I didn’t want the other members to overhear. As I spoke my voice didn’t reflect how she thought I should have been feeling (i.e. remorseful). I had already detached myself from everything that had happened because I simply did not want to feel guilty about it anymore. Migdalia lit into me first for committing the awful deed, and second for not showing any remorse for it. I almost said, “What do you want me to do?? Sit here and cry??” That’s exactly what I did, but only because she was making me feel so bad. The entire alley became one giant blur as tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. Migdalia thought this was in response to my “godly repentance” so she softened and told me that if I asked for forgiveness, God would forgive me and to make sure that I stayed close to Him so something like this did not happen again. I felt humiliated and idiotic at the end of our talk and absolutely hated that half the campus ministry kept throwing looks of pity my way. After this incident, I just wanted to put the whole thing behind me and avoided Migdalia like the plague for the rest of the summer until it was time for me to start orientation at Rutgers. I was looking forward to beginning a new start that fall and becoming a part of the famed RU Campus Ministry.
The first four months at Rutgers was truly a “second honeymoon” for me. I loved being absorbed into that ministry and in a place where I could be surrounded by disciples all of the time. Most of all, I was glad to be away from the other sector, especially Migdalia. I couldn’t stand the way she appeared so smug and had ripped me apart for something I had already openly confessed to doing. At Rutgers, I always had someone to eat lunch or study with and I felt invincible, like we were a mighty army and we would take the campus by storm. By that time, the ministry was thirty disciples strong and ever increasing in number. I liked that all of the services were only a matter of 15 minutes away and I could actually go out with the campus ministry to Applebee’s after Midweek service (a favorite hangout of the church’s).
I was in a Bible Talk of all girls that I got along with pretty well for the most part. Our group was actually led by Shelly. I was discipled by my roommate, Maria. We held Bible Talks in our dorm room several times and had a great turn out at each discussion. I began studying the Bible with a girl on my floor, “Kristy”, who was a freshman. I would spend many days hanging out in her room talking and listening to music. My whole Bible Talk became involved in the process of getting her baptized and praised me for my aggressiveness in moving her towards becoming a disciple. I didn’t see it as aggressiveness, however. I just wanted to share my life in Christ with this girl and invite her to know the awesome God I knew personally. She and I genuinely became friends through our shared interest in music, particularly classic rock and songs from the 80’s. Several campus sisters remarked how I was going to become personally fruitful and I was very excited by this.
In the middle of October, I came down with a fever of 102 degrees after having a very bad cold for a few days, and was rushed to the emergency room one night. After they released me, I stayed in bed for most of the following week and the girls in my Bible Talk were surprisingly very sympathetic. Shelly asked if she could do anything for me, and called me to say she was going to McDonalds one afternoon and would I like anything. Half an hour later, she arrived at my dorm with a chicken sandwich and a card signed by all the girls in our Bible Talk.
Despite the great time I was having in the RU ministry, I began experiencing problems with Maria right away, since we roomed together. My relationship with her during the first few months on campus was mainly that of discipler/disciplee. She could be difficult to deal with sometimes, primarily because she was an over zealous freshman and everything to her was new and exciting. Her ambition actually irritated me. Maria was also very irresponsible. Her side of our room looked like a tornado had hit it, and she was always losing things. She would borrow stuff from me constantly without asking and either lose it, or destroy it somehow. I had to talk to her several times about her lack of respect for my property and every time, she apologized and said she wouldn’t do it again. It finally got to the point where I flat out told her I couldn’t trust her with any of my things and she was not to borrow anything from me, with or without my permission. At least twice that I remember, Maria “misplaced” her keys to the room and slash card to get into the dorm. Several nights after midnight, I would be jostled awake by her calling me to be let into the room. It was quite annoying. She wanted me to leave the door unlocked so that she could just come and go. I told her that because we lived in a building with a hundred other people, anyone else who felt like it could “just come and go” into our room as well. Halfway through the semester, I got a new DP thankfully. I was paired up with “Allison”, who I already had a friendship with. Allison would disciple me for the rest of my junior year in fact. I was probably more real with her than any other DP I had, and our relationship really didn’t change by the fact that now she was “over me in the Lord”. I would spend many nights sleeping over at her dorm and had a blast with her and her roommate, who was also in the church.
The dating in our sector was still a sorry sight however which I was disappointed about, and even more so within the campus ministry. At Rutgers, there were eight guys and twenty- one girls! The campus brothers went on dates mainly with sisters from colleges in the Manhattan region, too, despite being talked to by the Men’s Campus Leader about this. So it was a big deal when Shelly became interested in a member from California that she had met over the summer on a church sponsored missions trip to China. Everyone wished they could be as lucky as her to have a budding relationship within the Kingdom. Meanwhile, I had started writing back and forth to a guy who was a part of the Chicago Church of Christ. He had found me on the Internet one night and recognized my screen name from the ICC member chat forum. After a while, it became obvious that he had an interest in me, so he asked for the name and email address of my discipler. I had been completely upfront with Allison to this point about the relationship and she was excited for me. She began talking with his DP to determine how we should proceed. It was a delicate matter, because we had never met in person and didn’t have a chance to observe each other’s spiritual progress on a consistent basis. We did exchange pictures, cards and little emails to encourage each other. I kept all of this quiet, except for telling Allison and Palak, because I still didn’t know what was going on and didn’t want to brag.
Before the end of the semester, Kristy stopped talking to me suddenly. She was never around either when I knocked on her door or called her room. She had mysteriously discontinued studying the Bible with me without an explanation too. I didn’t pressure her to study any further, though, because I didn’t want to push her away. When I happened to run into her in the bathroom or somewhere else, and asked how she was doing, she would give me one- word answers and avoid eye contact with me. I felt like I had blown it with her and lost a good friend, more than lamenting the fact that I would no longer be fruitful. This was a very lonely time for me. I was also dreading the looming Christmas vacation ahead. As the semester came to a close, I made sure that I was equipped for the four week long break. I was determined to “stay strong” while living at home with my spiritually draining family, and Allison gave me plenty of scriptures to memorize as well as a thirty page packet of devotionals, written by some of the more “spiritually mature” campus sisters.
I had no interest in attending services in my home sector. I still didn’t feel close with any of the sisters there. I felt that our relationships were extremely superficial, and I didn’t want to spend the entire break being fake with everyone. I was especially not looking forward to the arguments with my mom and having my “worldly” friends think I was a freak for my exorbitantly high commitment to the church. Despite having the best intentions to go, I think I made it to one service during that four- week period. I would not take any phone calls from members in the Metro East sector, who were wondering what happened to me. I thought, “if I can just avoid not going to services here and ride it out until I go back to Rutgers, I’ll be okay. There’s no harm in it.” I began feeling extremely guilty though and stopped praying and reading my Bible. I also felt very badly that while at home, I was supposed to set an example for my family, and here I was not going to church. I wondered, “what must they be thinking?” I carried out the rest of the break thinking I had fooled everyone, but lived in fear of being found out.
Upon returning to campus I began having terrible nightmares about hiding from members in the Metro East sector, so I wouldn’t have to face up to not having gone to services during winter vacation. I knew sooner or later I would run into one of them and be forced to break down and confess. The New York City Church of Christ started holding campus devotionals on Friday nights for all college students in that congregation. These were held in East Harlem (or Spanish Harlem), New York at one of the church-owned buildings. After worship, the men and women were separated to hear gender specific messages. I had a difficult time listening to the woman speaker, Cinnamon Conner, week after week. Cinnamon was a young, perky blonde who reminded me of a snobby sorority girl. She lectured more than she encouraged. She kept telling us that we were all like a speck of dust to God and insisted on reminding us that all we deserved was Hell.
It was here at one of the campus devotionals that I saw Teikoa for the first time since attending that one service over the break. Rather than keep living in fear and hiding which was absolutely torturing me, I let her confront me on the issue. The amazing thing is, she didn’t berate me. She acted as if she pitied me, in fact, and my lack of spirituality and relationship with God. This made me feel relieved and foolish at the same time. I don’t remember what excuse I made up for not going to church, but I promised to confess this right away to Allison and anyone who I had lied to about it, including Palak. Allison said she had a strong suspicion that I not been going, but wanted to hear it from me herself. She went pretty easy on me about the whole thing. Palak was disappointed in me for not being honest with her, and I felt very bad about this because she was my best friend. I felt I needed to hide the truth even from her.
With the whole “confession” behind me, I was ready to start the Spring semester afresh, but I had already begun to witness many changes with regard to my church involvement. I was put in a new Bible Talk, which was okay with me, but I started noticing that they had become very predictable and utterly pointless. All of the talks were either on how we as college students can take our focus off of God, or on the Parable of the Sower (the one where Jesus describes four different hearers of God’s Word). The group was designed only to grab visitor’s attention and then trap them into going through the Bible series from there. To a visitor, I suppose the talks were at least thought provoking and somewhat interesting. To a member who was very familiar with how a Bible Talk operated however, they were dry and stale, involving no analysis whatsoever of the Word. I heard of one Bible Talk leaders’ D-group during this time that was actually entirely dedicated to conducting a Bible Talk. The leaders would run a mock Bible Talk and say and do things that you are not supposed say and/or do. I lost my enthusiasm for inviting students to the talks, thinking “who would ever want to come to one of these”? I really felt like I was in a play saying the same lines over and over again. After a while, all of the sermons started sounding exactly the same too, and I got bored easily with them. I would take notes upon notes of messages in my journal, but hardly ever went back to look them over afterwards. There was no in depth study of Scripture on a variety of topics; it was all “Do what I say, repent, get in line, bring more visitors, etc. or you’ll go to Hell”. The messages were extremely discouraging and terrifying. All the joy of going to church was slowly but surely being sucked out of me.
I also noticed something strange about Shelly too. She now acted as if we never had any kind of friendship before I came to Rutgers. Being a leader, it seemed, had given her a tremendous head- trip and she was all of a sudden too good for me. I was still at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak, while she was climbing the ladder of success. The sad thing was I wanted to imitate her, as all the other campus girls, right down to the clothes she wore and the way she moved her hands when she spoke. Allison began “cracking the whip” so to speak in terms of me following up with (or chasing down) girls I had invited to church. She called me one night to ask how the follow up was going and demanded that I call one of the girls even though it was already approaching midnight. I protested of course, but not wanting to seem disobedient I called this girl, who thankfully did not mind at all that I had phoned her so late. Allison was obviously getting her orders from Shelly who had become so focused on numbers by this point.
In our small Bible Talk discipleship group comprised of all the girls from our larger Bible Talk, Shelly began humiliating each of us one by one. Allison’s roommate hadn’t been able to finish her homework the night before because of all the recent pointless church activities, so she decided to bring it along with her to our breakfast meeting one morning. Shelly reprimanded her for doing her homework instead of being focused on the meeting, in front of all of us. Later on, Shelly would single me out for not being aggressive enough in getting one girl I had met out to church. I told her this girl just was not interested, and I did not want to harass her. Shelly said, “You’ve got to do it! This girl will go to Hell if you don’t.” Another time, we were all meeting for dinner one night and as usual, Shelly went around the table asking us how many people we had shared with that day. I actually had a pretty good sharing day so I was proud to say “seven, no wait, nine.” Shelly couldn’t conceal her disbelief. “Oh… wow”, she stammered as she wrote the number down. I figured she had sized me up as a big fat zero in the Kingdom because I wasn’t producing the high stats that she was so concerned with. I was beginning to realize my relationship with her was based on my performance, as it was with all the other leaders I, sadly, desperately wanted approval from.
At least a third of our campus ministry thought that they had bipolar disorder or some other form of mental illness during this Spring. One of them included Allison. Looking back, I am not surprised at all. In the church, you were always at war with yourself internally. You had feelings and reactions about things, as all human beings do, but you were always suppressing these emotions because they did not matter in the bigger realm of saving the world for Jesus. We were taught early on, even before becoming members, that emotions were like a roller coaster and the only constant was the Word of God. While I do agree with this scripture, the ICC twisted it like they did everything else, and used it to justify not being allowed to have feelings. After all, who has time to waste exploring your emotions when the salvation of the world rests on your shoulders? Three such college students, who were all actually diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder only weeks apart, had been baptized as teens. In the most emotional time of their lives, when adolescents are naturally supposed to be finding their identity and trying out new things, they were stuffing their feelings down all of the time. There was no outlet for them. Adults are better equipped to handle and “manage” their emotions, but teenagers tend to internalize everything, especially girls.
I witnessed my discipling partner go through this firsthand. She would have angry outbursts at the drop of a hat and crying spells. Shelly was completely unsympathetic towards her. I can remember one Midweek service when Allison was being open with the girls from our Bible Talk about her struggle with depression and these strange manic episodes she seemed to be having. She said during the winter and fall, she tended to be more depressed and lethargic, and in the spring & summer, she seemed to need no more than three hours of sleep a night. Instead of listening supportively, Shelly blurted out, “You know, sometimes I think you use your ‘illness’ as an excuse to get out of things.” I could not believe my ears. “How insensitive and rude of her”, I thought. Allison was obviously very shaken up by what Shelly said and burst into tears. She muttered between sobs, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me”. Shelly got up and hugged her, as if that was supposed to make her feel any better. I felt bad and was embarrassed for Allison.
None of the leaders had any knowledge or training in professional counseling, or of mental health disorders. Members who had even the slightest feelings of depression were told to “just suck it up” and that there was no reason at all to be unhappy because they had God. I can remember being advised, during the time I was studying the Bible, to stop seeing a counselor on campus since the Church and God would now take care of all my problems. Having a Masters degree in the mental health field of Social Work, it is clear that such advice is an extremely dangerous misuse and abuse of leadership. It does not take into account the many factors that cause depression, such as a chemical imbalance, and reduces the members’ choices of counsel to people who are not licensed to treat such sensitive matters. It also shows a very poor understanding of God. God loves you whether you are feeling up or down. He says that He will be your strength when you are weak. He also never promised those who follow Him a “rose garden”. He never guaranteed happiness living for Christ, but He did promise freedom. This freedom involves being liberated to grieve and to even question Him during those times of hurt and sadness. One was never allowed to do that in the ICC.
By the Spring semester of my junior year, I had built up quite a collection of Christian CDs and would spend countless hours listening to such artists as Steven Curtis Chapman, Jars of Clay and DC Talk. I was very moved and inspired by their music, and have always loved to worship God in this particular way. According to ICC logic, because they were not in the Church, they could not be true disciples of Jesus. Something just did not sit right with me about this, however. Their lyrics were so powerful and had the ability to express exactly what I wanted to say to God myself, that I felt they had to be Christians. I said this to no one though, knowing that I would have a hefty argument on my hands. I suppressed this feeling of course, but filed it away in the back of my mind. Many times during my involvement with the ICC, I wondered what exactly was Christian about me and the other members. What made us so much more spiritual than everybody else who claimed to have a relationship with Christ? The only thing we seemed to do differently than other denominations was aggressive evangelism. And that wasn’t even done out of a true love for God or people, but mainly for statistical purposes. We were instructed to, for successful evangelism, “make as many connections as possible and make a best friend the second you meet. Be the most trustworthy and most friendly person so that they associate you with the Kingdom in a good way.” (By the way, aren’t people just supposed to accept Jesus because of… Jesus?) We were hardly the persona of a loving best friend; instead, we were uncaring, forceful, arrogant and closed minded. That’s really how we were defined by those looking in from the outside. I once told Palak my thoughts about this, and she agreed with me.
By March of 2000, my Internet relationship had grown more serious. It got to the point where I was talking on the phone once a week with this guy from the Chicago church, Mike, and he got permission from his discipler to ask me to fly out there and attend his college’s military ball (he was involved in ROTC). I was very excited by this, but knew to be cautious about it because it was such a huge step. I let Allison know right away about the request, and she said that she thought I should get more advice than from her only. She was all for it however. I spent the next few weeks going to every sister in my sector that I had some sort of relationship with to seek their “godly advice”. One of them was Shelly, who told me that if she were me, she wouldn’t do it. This was like the pot calling the kettle black. Just one month ago for Valentine’s Day weekend, she had gone to California to visit the guy she met over the summer in China and nobody had a problem approving that! Shelly strongly urged me to talk to Michele Carrillo, who didn’t know me from Eve, and not to make up my mind about going until I did so.
It just so happened that during this interim, Michele gave the girls in the campus ministry the reaming of a lifetime. One night after Midweek, she called a meeting of the campus women. No one knew what this was about, except the women’s campus leader. Once we were all gathered together behind the stage (we were meeting at an elementary school in their gym) Michele started tearing us apart for our lack of evangelism. She screamed that we had no faith and no courage to invite anyone to church. She actually called us “grasshoppers”, which seemed funny even then. It was like getting in trouble with a parent or a teacher. None of us could look at her while she ranted and raved. Then after she was done, Sara, the women’s campus leader, had a few words of her own to say. She was much, much kinder than Michele, but I think all of us were reduced to shame and shock by that point so it didn’t matter. Afterward, we were supposed to break up into our Bible Talks and discuss how we would personally change from this “convicting” message. I don’t remember what I mumbled, only that I was so angry at Michele that I could have pushed her off the stage! So, needless to say Michele Carrillo was the last person I wanted to speak to about personal matters.
It turned out that she never got back to me anyway and so, tired of waiting and with Allison’s blessing, I told Mike to go ahead and buy the plane tickets. The trip was the last weekend of April, a week before Finals. I could scarcely concentrate on anything school related. I spent a great deal of time making sure the plans were being finalized. I would stay with three sisters from Mike’s campus ministry in their apartment. I emailed one of these girls, Sarah, back and forth in the weeks leading up to the trip. I also corresponded with Mike’s best female friend, who would double with us on one of our dates. They were both extremely friendly and I was excited to meet them.
A couple of weeks prior to leaving for Illinois, I went on a date with Billy, one of the RU football players in the campus ministry. He was very popular among the members in our sector and was being prepped for leadership by Robert Carrillo. Billy was also considered an “eligible bachelor” because of his looks and popularity but he could be, well, a doofus. We went as a group (of course) to a nice restaurant in Princeton and then to an old-fashioned ice cream shop afterwards. We had a pretty decent conversation over dinner, but when we were driving home, he turned into a big fat two-year old. The two us were packed like sardines with another couple in the back seat. He started singing along to every song on the radio at the top of his lungs and kept jostling me around, into the girl I was squashed next to. I found his behavior to be rude and annoying, and I asked him several times to stop. Billy would not quit, however, no matter how many times I asked. I was getting angrier by the second. Then came the crowning event of that night: I was finishing my cup of ice cream in the car, and Billy knocked into me hard, sending some of the ice cream into my lap. He tried to help me clean it up by wiping it with a napkin. I was absolutely horrified. I told him I could “clean up my own mess, thank you”. After that, we didn’t talk until they dropped me off Allison’s dorm so I could spend the night (we rode to church together on Sundays since we both taught children’s classes). I was totally irritated with Billy and with the other people in the car for not backing me up. Unfortunately, this was typical of the immaturity of most of the brothers in our sector, and in the Church as a whole. They felt they could do whatever they wanted since they were “God’s chosen sons”. This is what made dating such a joke because you knew there was no chance you would ever get serious with any one of these guys, and even if you were interested, they would probably be considered “too spiritual” for you anyway. Shouldn’t I have been grateful that to have such godly men looking out for me when there are so many skeevy guys in the world? Two days later, I ran into the brother who was driving on the date and he gave me a lecture on how I should “lighten up” and that I should have gone easy on Billy since he was only fooling around. I felt completely side- swiped. I didn’t even try to defend myself. I just stared at him in disbelief and walked away thinking, “what a jerk!”
The morning of my flight, one girl from the campus ministry was kind enough to drive me to the airport. When I arrived in Bloomington, Illinois I was greeted by Sarah and one of her roommates, Meghann. It was wonderful to meet them both and we hit it off right away. I dropped my luggage off at their apartment before going with them to the mall to do some pre-ball shopping. Meghann did my hair, while Sarah was busy getting ready herself (she was also involved in ROTC and was attending the ball with her boyfriend). As Meghann and I were talking, I kind of got the impression that Mike wasn’t really popular in his sector, like he wasn’t sharp, which the church favors. It just so happened too, that Meghann’s fiancé was Mike’s discipling partner. I brushed it off however, because I myself was not highly regarded in my sector for my astounding numbers of visitors.
I was almost completely ready when Mike showed up. We were about to meet for the first time. Meghann opened the door and there he stood in his military uniform, holding a bouquet of flowers for me. He unfortunately ended up looking very different from the few pictures I had gotten of him and his mannerisms were peculiar. I could not believe this was the same guy I had looked so forward to meeting these past six months. All those hopes of connecting with the right man in the church went down the drain in a nanosecond. I think I can say that I tolerated being on dates with him for the next three days, but didn’t really enjoy myself. He was still a likeable guy, but there wasn’t that spark I thought there would be. He must have wondered what was up because I was very quiet and didn’t seem to want to do any of the activities he had planned for us. On Friday night after the ball, I stayed up talking to Sarah about my huge disappointment. She was very understanding and supportive. I asked her if she would relay the message to Mike’s DP that I was not interested anymore so that, following the church’s system of dating, I would not be the one to directly hurt his feelings. She promised me that she would. On Sunday evening, we rode to the airport in silence. I expected him to ask what was wrong with me or elaborate on where he thought things were going from that point. But he hardly said anything before I boarded the plane except a polite good-bye. I thought, well he has to know that whatever was there between us before is now no more, and if he doesn’t, his discipler at least will tell him. There was a break down in communication though. He never did find out that I was no longer interested. He continued to email and call as if nothing was ever said to him. I felt betrayed by Sarah. I wrote her and her roommates a card thanking them for letting me stay with them and she never replied back.
When I got back to New Jersey, everyone in the campus ministry wanted to hear about my weekend, and I was humiliated having to tell them nothing worked out the way I planned. Hardly anyone had thought it was a good idea to begin with, either. I tried hard not to sound shallow about the whole episode, but I think that's how I came across anyway. After about a day of recounting the story to all the campus girls, it was like "okay, now its time to get over it and start focusing on the people who are going to Hell". Maria actually said to me the night I arrived home, "Well, you didn't go there expecting to get a boyfriend, did you?" I was too tired at that point to get mad at her insensitivity. I skipped our Bible Talk’s weekly Monday morning devotional at 7 am the next day and slept in. It didn't take me just a day to get over it. It took me a good three weeks before I was finally resolved that what I had built up for six months just wasn't meant to be. I felt like no one understood what I was going through, but I didn't want to feel sorry for myself. I needed a shoulder to cry on and someone to care about my disappointment, but all my fellow church members gave me was indifference. I was in an emotional crisis and the people who I had shared my life with for the past three years - people I believed cared about and valued me - blew me off. After everything I had given, when I really needed someone, no one was there. The coldness with which I was treated suddenly made me realize how shallow our relationships really were, and also how I had neglected my own feelings for the sake of the mission. I hardly felt human anymore.
That week after returning home was one of the worst ever. I basically had to push my feelings aside because I had to study for three Finals and write two final papers. I was very stressed out and suffering from a nasty cold I had developed on the plane ride home. It made me sick emotionally too. I no longer looked forward to attending campus devotionals in NYC on Friday nights. In fact, I had absolutely no interest in going. I had come to loathe Cinnamon and her perky messages. I couldn’t have been more thrilled when we got stuck in traffic on the NJ Turnpike one night on our way into the city and completely missed the entire devo. That night, the campus ministry was going to see “Gladiator” once we got back to Jersey and one of the guys was actually nice enough to pay for my ticket because I had no money on me. This was a movie featuring violence and glory in fighting, and Jim, the campus leader, hailed it as an award winning film and related it to how we should fight for God as disciples. Give me a break already! I personally thought the movie was grotesque and difficult to watch because of its violent and sexual content. Two years prior, the film “The Matrix” was used as the popular parallel to life as a disciple in all of the campus ministry talks. This showed just how egocentric the church was, comparing everything including pop-culture, to itself. At that point, I could see right through this “scam” and it made me feel sick to my stomach.
That emotional crisis I had just gone through was a big wake-up call for me, but it would still take another two months before I was ready to walk away. Once back in the good ol’ Metro East sector, I tried to keep up my familiar schedule of meetings and services, but my heart just wasn't in it anymore. I had experienced feelings of extreme dread before going home for the summer, not wanting to face another three long months of arguing with my mother and feeling like I was two different people. I was one way with disciples, and another with my family. I began to feel like I had a split personality. At one point during the summer, I even thought I may have had social anxiety disorder because I would get incredibly anxious when I had to meet with people from church, always afraid that I would be asked about my quiet time I wasn't having or some "unresolved sin" in my life. I felt like I couldn't be real with anybody, inside the church or outside of it. I found myself lying to everyone. I was very sporadic in attending services in Metro East, and people wondered what in the world was up with me.
I was assigned a new discipling partner named Janeile. She was very nice, but I didn’t want to let her in to get to know me. I was struggling big time with whether I wanted to stay in the church, and wanted to conceal this from her. For this reason, I kept putting off our discipling time. Finally, I did meet with her at her house, but remained superficial. She asked me what sins I struggled with and I told her that I wanted a boyfriend, which sometimes took my focus off of God. She suggested I talk to Migdalia at our next Sunday service about this. I have no idea why she felt Migdalia was any more qualified to give me advice on this aspect of my life than she was. That’s just what members say when they don’t know what to say: “talk to the leader”. Remembering how harshly she dealt with me last I was advised to speak with her, I had no urgency to reveal that I was struggling whatsoever.
That Sunday we were meeting at a park near my house and afterwards, Janeile dragged me over to Migdalia. To my complete amazement, “Maggie”, as the members affectionately called her, was very gracious towards me. She warned though, “Wanting a boyfriend is only the first step in wandering away from God and becoming bitter and ungrateful. What’s next? When you’re dating, you’ll want to be married. When you’re married, you’ll want to have children.” I thought to myself, what is so wrong with having these desires? It was as if she and everyone else didn’t trust me to date responsibly and stay true to God if I had a boyfriend. I thought, “This is so easy for you to say! You’re already dating the lead evangelist!” In a great twist of irony, she ended up getting engaged to him one month later and they were married in December of that year. I wonder if she strayed from God at all because she had desires to date and get married?
After that little pep talk, I was committed once again to the church and following all of the rules. I was still wrestling with feelings, however, that I had killed a part of myself for the sake of the “Kingdom” and therefore had not experienced much of life during my membership. I was going into my senior year of college and regretted that I had not even tried out for one play or joined any clubs outside of Campus Advance (the church’s college ministry). As always though, I counteracted those feelings and thought, “what is wrong with me?” I have a relationship with God; I should be living a life of peace and happiness. Over the next few weeks, I began to discover the root of my misery. It had finally hit me after all this time- I didn’t feel free. The outside world began to look very appealing to me just because people could come and go as they pleased and didn’t have anyone telling them what to do and how to act.
Despite this revelation, I still made plans to attend the state- wide anniversary service, held on June 17. I drove down the Friday before to Rutgers to spend the night with Allison who was renting an apartment in the area for the summer. It worked out great since I was taking a class there on Saturday mornings at 8:30 in order to graduate on time. I went to a campus devotional with her Friday night, got up for my class the next morning and spent the day with her afterwards before driving up to her house, close to where the service would be held. My mom had been extremely reluctant to let me do this, but I promised I would be back on time Sunday to attend a baseball game with the family, something she had planned for Father’s Day. When I was leaving the service, I ran into Palak. She told me she wasn’t doing well and had had thoughts of leaving the church. I encouraged her to stay, as I was feeling “up”, and she took my advice.
Ironically, after that service which would be last one I would ever attend, I began to struggle again. All I wanted was to be free of all the demands and accountability for once. That Friday was yet another campus devotional, and I was supposed to find a ride. I put this off, because deep down inside I did not want to go. Janeile called the day before and left me a message to ask if I had found a ride yet. That night was my sister’s graduation from high school, and I called her back five minutes before we were leaving on purpose so I wouldn’t have to talk to her long. She wasn’t home so I left her a message and said I was working on finding a ride. I did not end up going to the campus devotional and while I had every intention of making it to Sunday’s service, I decided not to call for a ride to that either. Instead, the night before I hung out with my sister and some of her friends. It was just an ordinary get together, but probably for the first time, I didn’t feel guilty for spending time with people who were not in the church. We talked outside after dinner was over until well after dark. It was such a simple joy, something I should otherwise have taken for granted. It was a luxury people outside of the church could afford, and I wanted that luxury back.
I still felt torn, though, over whether I should continue to remain in the church. I had been brainwashed to believe that leaving the ICoC was the same as leaving God, which meant eternal damnation. Finally, after a month and a half of pretending, I did break down and told my mom one night at the end of June that I was thinking about leaving. We sat and talked for over an hour about how unhappy I had been and what other possibilities there were for me outside of the ICC. She offered to have me meet with an exit counselor who my family saw about a year earlier and came highly recommended. It was a month before he had room in his schedule to meet with me, but during that month I considered for the first time the possibility of leaving. It scared me to death because I feared losing my salvation. I stopped going to all church services and started doing things I hadn’t done in almost three years. It was like a bird being let out of its cage. Awarding myself these new freedoms, however, made me feel guilty. Though I may have been physically free to pursue certain things, my mind was still held captive by the church. I started screening my calls because I didn't want to talk to anybody in the ICC. I felt like a big failure spiritually and that God didn't think I was worth being in His church. The only member I did talk to during this time was Palak. It’s funny, but every time I wanted to leave the church, Palak got strong and full of convictions and every time she wanted to leave, I got strong and full of convictions. I spent the majority of July wanting to leave the church, and that’s when she was the strongest. Right before she left for a big Kingdom conference in Washington, D.C., Palak was ready to “fall away”, but when she came back, she was “on fire”. Meanwhile I was a mess, and battled it out in my head every day about leaving.
At last the exit counselor, Dave Clark, was available to meet with me. He came all the way from Philadelphia and arrived late on a Saturday afternoon. I was still hesitant and skeptical about meeting with him and remained guarded, ready to defend the church’s beliefs and practices. He stayed at our house for four days. By the end of the first day, my head was throbbing from all the negative information I had learned about the ICC, but it was relieving to learn that I didn’t have to stay in the church and now I had a valid reason for leaving. I actually couldn’t wait to begin our session the next day. I ate up all the information he fed me. Dave knew all about the church, having researched the organization since 1980, the year after it began. He knew exactly where all the donated money was really going - to finance a luxurious lifestyle for the leaders, not to charity. Over the next few days, I listened to audiotapes of top leaders briefing leaders beneath them, instructions which contradicted the information we, as rank and file members, had received. Dave knew the Bible and showed me how the group had twisted the scriptures to serve themselves. He showed me videotapes of news specials on the church - investigations that questioned if the church was actually a cult. In these I saw plain evidence of the top leaders' hypocrisy as they lied to cover up scandal. I was shocked and angered as I realized I had been manipulated and exploited solely for the financial gain of the leaders. The benevolent front presented by them, to save the world, turned out to be just a ruse to seduce my idealistic and trusting mind and heart.
My head was spinning with this new- found truth, and I realized that the ICC was indeed a cult and I had been their victim. Overwhelmed with emotion, yet relieved to finally be able to pick a side and end my internal conflict, I decided to leave the church, two days before my 21st birthday. It was a wonderful gift from God that I could think for myself again. I spent every spare moment for the next month on the internet reading hundreds of former members' stories, all appallingly similar to mine. One source which proved to be a tremendous help was the REVEAL website. It served as a form of therapy to know that there are countless others who have left and can identify with exactly what I was going through.
That summer I reflected back on my history with the group. I had thought I was entering the church with both eyes open, and that I was certainly smart enough to recognize anything funky, yet all along I was deceived. Even worse, I carried on that deception by telling half-truths to the people I tried to recruit - only the information the church felt they needed to know at a certain point. I lost three years of my life - most of my college experience – and I grieved for what I had lost and “what could have been”. I wondered how I would live my life from then on. How would I face other members now that I was considered an evil “fall away”? What would I say to them?
The night of my birthday, I received phone calls from Myrna and Kelly, both of whom I had not spoken to in a long time. The first was from Kelly who wished me a happy birthday and then asked how I was doing. Not yet prepared to answer for why I had left the church, I lied and said I was adjusting much better to Metro East and liked being discipled by Janeile. Myrna called two minutes later and though I gathered my courage to tell her that I had left, I simply said I had something very important to tell her but I couldn’t get into it at that moment since it was late. I asked her to call me back the next day, but she never did. I did speak to Palak however, a few nights later and spent five hours telling her all that I had discovered about the church and my reasons for leaving. She was in shock, but wanted to hear everything. I was very afraid that after hearing me out she would discontinue our friendship, but she promised me she wouldn’t. A week later, she emailed me with some concerns she had herself about the church and said she wanted to meet for lunch to discuss them. I met her down at Rutgers and she informed me that she had decided to leave. I was thrilled and so relieved. We spent the next eight hours talking about our experiences within the ICC and how we would both cope now.
Palak and I were scared to move back onto campus, knowing that we’d probably run into members left and right. I had to switch into a single room out of the on-campus apartment I was going to share with three other campus ministry girls, including Maria. I called Maria, since hers was the only phone number I had, to tell her I had left the church and would not be living with them in the Fall. She said something that did not hit me until hours later because I was too sad at the time, but would haunt me for months afterward: “I’ll still love you even if you don’t follow God anymore.” She was too blind to see that just because I had left the church, I had not left my Christianity behind.
It was difficult to begin life outside of the ICC. It was like learning how to walk all over again. I had to make new friends and find a new church. I had to redefine my relationship with God, which was the most difficult of all. I had associated Him with guilt and condemnation for so long, I didn’t really know who He was. I didn’t know how to pray and read the Bible on my own. I kept seeing verses of Scripture in the same light the church had painted them, and they made me shutter. I was not even sure I wanted to still be a Christian either. I was angry at God for putting me in this group, for allowing me to be deceived. I did not want to completely abandon my faith though.
During the month of August, I seriously considered taking the upcoming semester off from school because of my fragile emotional and mental status. I decided that I wouldn’t let the church still control my life- I wanted to graduate on time. It had been my goal all along to graduate in four years, and I wasn’t about to let the ICC ruin those plans. So I sucked it up and moved back to Rutgers the Tuesday after Labor Day. I was terrified to leave my dorm room though, for fear of encountering one or more church members.
Palak visited often, and we supported each other during this time because we had no one else. Together, we searched the phone book for a new church to get involved in and began our “church hopping” days. I had seen a flyer on campus for one church that was actually held in the student center of the campus I was living on. I mentioned it to Palak, and we checked it out that weekend. While we were there, I spotted a girl that I recognized who had studied the Bible with Maria and Chele briefly last fall. I asked if she remembered me and then explained that I had left the ICC. I confirmed her suspicions all along that it had been a cult. She invited both of us to a meeting of Campus Crusade for Christ that following Thursday night. We went, and found a wonderful new campus ministry to get plugged into. We began attending the church on campus regularly, too, and met a lot of caring, sincere Christians there. I decided I wanted to stay a committed Christian and started rebuilding my relationship with God, this time based on grace, instead of rules.
I began seeing a counselor on campus, so that I could sort through all of the stuff that had happened to me over the past three years. I discovered who I am as a person, without the identity of the church, and without the labels they gave me. I started keeping a journal to express my feelings, something the ICC frowned upon doing. It was incredibly freeing to once again be able to write down whatever I was feeling or thinking, and grow from it. I also joined a support group for cult victims and began speaking to different groups of college students about my experience. All of these things helped me to heal over time. I cannot say that the journey towards recovery was a breeze however; there were many bumps along the road. Twice, I felt suicidal. I prayed for God to end my suffering by just taking me from this earth, instead of wishing to actually inflict harm upon myself to end my life. I became frustrated and angry at my former friends in the church for thinking I had left because of some terrible sin. No one from the church ever confronted me though, on my reasons for leaving- they just assumed I had been deep in sin for some time and wanted to live an immoral life now. I believe they didn’t care to hear anything I might have to say. I never knew what they were thinking or saying about me behind my back, and this made me paranoid and sad.
A few weeks after moving back onto campus, Kelly responded to an email that Palak had written to her and told her that leaving the church was like a dog returning to its vomit. I was so outraged at this comment that I wrote Kelly an email of my own and told her off. I told her that the scripture she quoted to Palak was taken completely out of context and that if she had looked at it in its entirety, she would have realized Peter was referring to false prophets who were leading Christians astray. Kelly wrote back in a particularly nasty email saying that that was what we seemed to be doing, so it did pertain to us. I couldn’t believe that this was the same woman I had looked up to as a godly wife and mother for three years. I couldn’t believe she was being this cruel, accusing me of things she had no right to. Kelly boasted of her twelve years as a member, knowing Kip McKean personally, as if to prove she knew everything that was going on. We argued back and forth, until I wrote an email to say how sorry I was that our friendship had come to this point. She wrote back one last time and apologized as well. She also said if I had anything else to discuss with her, she would be more than willing to answer any of my questions and help me come back to the church. While still editing this, both Kelly and Myrna contacted me and apologized for everything bad that happened between us immediately following my leaving the church. I deeply appreciate their sincere apologies and was glad to have a chance to reconcile, finally. When I left, I was devastated to lose Kelly’s friendship. She was a person whom I considered a true friend and confidante. My relationship with her was rare and something that I treasured, but in the end, had to let go of.
Years later as I reflect back on my experience with the church, I understand clearer than ever that it operates on legalism instead of grace. Legalism has the power to render people invisible and reduces them to “non-person” status. That is how both leaders and rank and file members treated each other and non-members- as second class citizens. Stepping back, I have also made some other observations. I have had a chance to study some of scriptures the ICC is famous for twisting. They pounded into us certain verses such as Matthew 28:18-20 (The Great Commission), James 2:17 (“faith without works is dead”) and John 15 about bearing no fruit and being cut off from the vine. These are verses that the church prides itself on for following to the letter. However, they misinterpret what each of these really mean. In the chapters that follow, I will present the ICC’s version of certain key theological doctrines, reveal how they take particular scriptures out of context and then present what the Bible teaches about that doctrine.
The ICoC’s view of salvation is akin to a parent giving his or her child a piece of candy and then threatening to take it away at any time for misbehavior. This is the same picture most members get of God: a spiteful parent who gives salvation with strings attached, waiting for the slightest misstep so that He can take it away just as easily as it was given. Actually, according to the ICC, salvation is not that easily given. There is a very lengthy process which members subject themselves to, involving eight or more different Bible studies, sin purging and last but not least, baptism in front of ten or more witnesses, if the entire congregation cannot be present. Jesus in Luke 7:48, addresses the woman who enters the house of Simon where Jesus was invited to dine and says to her, “your faith has saved you”. Christ didn’t say “First go through a series of Bible studies, confess every single sin you’ve ever committed, get baptized and then maybe… if I still like you, you&