Out of the Twilight | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Out of the Twilight | Previous Challenge Entry
By Nancy Jo Wilson
08/21/07
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I had been out of the cult for about a year. Well, physically out, certainly not mentally. Any time a person experiences trauma, there's a period of numbness. A twilight time where you stumble about in the status quo waiting for your brain to catch up with your new circumstances. After a decade of being told what to think and do, it took months before my brain started to fire independently.

We were Christian, teaching and being taught that Jesus was the only way to salvation. The cultish aspects included an extreme reliance on revelatory knowledge above scripture. This revelation was delivered by our leader whom we considered a prophet in the Old Testament sense. He often reminded us God sent a bear to eat the boys that insulted Elijah. To question his words or interpretations was to risk God's judgment. As a result his opinion was penultimate in all matters, spiritual or not. He had a voice in issues as small as what deodorant one wore.

I had been a little like Rilian in his silver chair, with moments of clarity amid the insanity. However, I misinterpreted those moments as rebellion and would spend hours begging the Lord to take away my unbelief. So when I started to think, I immediately dropped those issues I had shrouded in doubt.

Other beliefs were harder to lose because there was some basis in scripture. A lot doctrine was drawn from the Old Testament. As a result, we did not eat pork or shellfish; did not get tattoos or wear earrings. While I had regular quiet times, they were based on whatever had been taught at the last service. So everything I studied was filtered through what our leader had previously taught.

One of the first things I did on my own was read the New Testament from beginning to end. I wanted to get an overall feel of the book. I found verses that our Pastor often quoted, but within the whole work they didn't mean what he had preached. I also found passages that totally contradicted things we had believed.

What does one do when faced with these inconsistencies? It's easy to imagine that you'd just drop the old way, but that's a little like saying I'm tired of being human and now I want to be a cat. When leaving a cult, it is more than just changing a philosophy. The simple issue of doctrine is buried beneath layers of guilt and fear. I was not just changing my mind; I was possibly turning away from God.

The first time I tried to wear earrings, I put in some delicate blue crystals my sister had given me. I was surprised to find that after over a decade of being empty the holes gave way with little resistance. Looking in the mirror, I was awash with shame. Guiltily, I pulled them out and threw the studs in the trash. I had hoarded them for years, only to toss them away.

I wanted God's will, but was terrified that His will was for me to return to that life. After a year, I was at bottom. My questions piled up against my past beliefs. It was the mental equivalent of friction at a fault line; the natural outcome being an earthquake.

One Sunday morning, my earthquake hit. I sobbed for an hour straight, beseeching the Lord incoherently to end it; to tell me the truth once and for all. In the quiet, I knew that I should go to church.

I hadn't been in a traditional setting in over a decade. My instinct was to flee. I suppressed it, slipped into the back and prayed that no one would speak to me. I knew that if I opened my mouth, the flood would begin again. I didn't want anyone to wonder "Who's that looney chick in the back row?"

Then the music began. We had been taught that all forms of music were evil and God's wrath was kindled against the church because of it. I stood board stiff with my hands clasped tightly at my chest. The sounds of worship were ointment: my heart leapt, I wanted to raise my hands, shout out! I couldn't, but the healing had begun.

As the Pastor preached verse by verse from Colossians, my questions melted. I felt as if I were breathing for first time. God had ended it. I was home.

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