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June 1997
We know many on the list and lurking and I hope what we write will be taken in the spirit of Truth with Love. This is not the first time you've heard from us, but time has a way of crystalizing our thoughts and actions - and there doesn't seem to be any way back, once we have seen this way for what it is.
We have both known this way from our childhood. The first Iowa convention was on Van's grandparents' farm in SW Iowa. (George Walker preached his grandmother's funeral). My grandparents were some of the first in central Nebraska. We've lived in 5 midwestern states in the past 40 years. We've seen the differences of administration and wrestled, as our children grew up, with the negatives. Tho we found precious friends in each area, we also found differences-of-opinion and respect-of-persons. To survive, we had tosay: If that be the case, then these issues can't be the "essentials of truth" and we set them aside - tho paying outward homage. That's actually nothing but hypocrisy and tho adults may be able to live with that, it is very corrosive to our children. They each, in their own time, have declined to be part of it.
Within our own family histories, we've known respect of persons, worker abuse and other inside information (re workers, convention grounds, etc.). Looking back, it seems incredible that altho we were bothered by the stories we heard, there didn't seem to be any thought but to say "the people aren't perfect, but the way is". We've all heard that dozens of times. Maybe, after all these years, that's what has become clear to us; this way is NOT perfect, either. Suddenly we woke up to the fact that if this way is not part of God's plan, then we don't have to make excuses for it any more! The freedom is wonderful! We read the bible and see Jesus -- not-Jesus-thru-the-film-of-this-way.
The single most common question when we have talked with various friends and relatives is "so where would you go - would you look for another church?" No! NO! No! That is the biggest fallacy we have been taught - that by belonging to a right church, we can have a relationship with God. The reverse is true. First we find a relationship with God - then we will find those with whom we can share fellowship.
We have not suffered the hurts that many on the list have spoken of - maybe because we had a wall of skepticism that protected us. That same wall, however, kept us from feeling close to God - feeling dishonest, maybe. But the older we get (and we all are! <Grin>) we realize that, at best, we have limited years to "get it right". And rather than turning us away from God, it has brought us to a greater appreciation of God, His word, and His plan and provision.
Because we've not had a lot of bitterness to put behind us, we've really valued the posts that have helped us to look forward and find a greater understanding of God's word. Thanks to each, who out of their own love and understanding have directed us on. We've appreciated the variety of viewpoints - maybe that's why God used 4 different apostles, each with a unique viewpoint, to record the gospels.
___ wrote about the hurt of none seeming to notice or care that he stopped attending. We've all seen that happen (3 brief visits in 3 years!?!) I used to think it was an act of kindness that we didn't ask "what happened to so-and-so?" but I think he may be right when he calls it "fear for our own fragile faith" or maybe it's just not wanting to be judgemental about their leaving. However, at this point I think we would no longer feel judgemental, but loving, if we could ask them "why". And I wish we could ask it of SO many, now that we realize how many unnecessary hurts there ARE out there!
We keep asking ourselves - what is it that keeps people in this group, even after they have acknowledged the wrongs and errors of this way!? Have some thoughts, but better keep them for another post - it's getting lengthy. Except to say that like a family, we may all agree amongst ourselves that "Gpa is a lecher, Uncle John is a drunk, Joe is a pompous windbag, Sam is an intellectual phoney, Aunt Sue is a gossip, and Mary stretches the truth." But if someone outside the family would dare to say those things, then we close ranks and "We're one happy family." Denial. A wall goes up and it's "usagainst them." It is especially hard to break out if we have felt the love and care of this "family."
We speak for ourselves in this; it has been very hard to do. We have SO many dear friends and family in this fellowship and it is our hope that we will be able to continue a relationship with them, even tho we do not continue to attend meetings. We only hope they could understand the positive outlook we have found - that it is not away from God we're moving, but toward His truth and love.
Thanks for listening - felt like it was time to speak out - maybe it will help other lurkers to find courage in their own situation. Each one is so personal, however, that we must handle it in our own way and our own time.
- Van and Karen Brown
June 1997
My Grandparents Donald and Katherine Hodgdon were in this Truth for a long time. They began to seek me out when I was 15 or 16. Soon after I had my driver’s license. They would ask me to take them to Gospel meetings. I would be glad for the driving experience and I did love them so I had no qualms about it. I almost professed in those Gospel meetings but something kept me back. I thought it was my own selfishness to give up on my materialistic life. I am not quite sure what was the reason. My life took a major nose dive after that and a lot of bad things happened. One day my grandfather peeked into my room at my parent’s and told me to stop sleeping the sleep of death. I felt so scared that I guess I was willing for anything. I had taken to retreating into my bedroom and reading for hours on end. My parents were ok with that. Soon after that my grandparents asked me to drive them to convention in Woodstock, Canada. I made my choice to serve God there. I had never seen such fellowship and seemingly unselfish service to one another and to God. I was totally enthralled by the whole experience especially since I was at the very lowest ebb of my life. My grandfather talked a lot about the valley of decision. I felt like I wallowed there forever. I will tell you one thing that occurred. When I stood to my feet to profess I felt a mighty rushing wind go up and I felt light as a feather. My yoke is easy and my burden is light!!! How true those words are.
My next experiences were to attend regular Sunday AM meeting. It was held at _______ ____’s house in Brewer, ME. As far as I know it still does. He made me very uncomfortable. He was always staring around the room during prayer and the only reason I know this is because I could feel him looking at me and I glanced up once. It makes you feel creepy and also makes you want to pull your skirt down even further. I found out later that he had attacked my Aunt _____ when she was young and that was why she left the church and never looked back. I know she has suffered mentally by that experience. ________ loved his steel grip on the meeting. One hour was the limit. He would do whatever it took to make sure that it never went over. He would cut people off or not give his testimony just to shorten the meeting. This was during 1981 that I went there. I could feel something in the air towards my grandparents but could never really put my finger on it. I think they were tolerated because I was a "babe". There is a lot to tell about them but I will have to do that another time.
From 1982 in May and on I lived in Alaska. Anchorage to be specific. I had my first experience with the friends there at convention. I felt like I had been dropped into a fashion show. All the young girls brought incredible dresses and all the frills. I thought "what are we here for? To worship God or mammon?" The East coast is very conservative so you can understand my point of view. I felt I had a wonderful convention and enjoyed the visiting workers immensely.
So my life in Anchorage began and I was assigned meetings to go to and I got settled into life. Things that started to bother me were the young people. They never wanted to talk about God. I couldn't find anyone that wanted to discuss spiritual things outside of meeting. Once meeting was over so was the rest of it I guess. I never could figure it out. Weren't they happy and joyful for the hope that was in them? I guess not. Then I realized there were no other nationalities in the church. I brought a black kid and a Vietnamese kid to a Gospel meeting once. I never realized how traumatic it would be for them. The black kid thought he was going to be offered up as a human sacrifice. I said did you really believe I would take you to something like that? I never realized the affect the silence would have on them. Having no other experience with churches I wasn't aware of how some black churches hold their meetings. So I got an education to say nonetheless. I felt so bad. I really wanted them to see what I had.
I could never understand the marrying inside the church when there wasn't anyone professing interested in you. Does that mean you are damned to the solitary life?
I later moved to Homer and went to ___ ____’s church. I later went to____ ______’s home for meeting. I also later moved in with her and her daughter. I thought I was very happy but some things went on that were very upsetting. The church never grew. Shouldn't something living be growing? I always thought so. I found out that it very much matters who you are in the church. When I decided to marry Jeremy I kept it secret. I kept our dating secret. I knew what was to be my portion if I didn't. Once the announcements went out it all started.The workers came to talk to me, different ones of the friends talked to me, some talked to my Uncle ____ and asked him to talk to me. He refused. He and his wife were Ex 2X2's. I was put through hell. On the morning of my wedding, I am getting ready and all excited about the day and I get a call from a friend, or someone I considered a friend, and she said "It is not too late to back out". I was devastated. Just once I wanted a Christ-like spirit towards me. Where was it? Why couldn't they accept my choice and let me deal with the consequences of my actions? Why couldn't they just LOVE me? People that you share the bread and wine with. How very hypocritical. My soul was ripped apart by them. I wouldn't allow any friends at the wedding, only the reception. I wasn't going to subject myself to any more stuff. I think that that in a nut shell covers it. The complete break in trust, love, fellowship, communion, the stress, the sorrow. I have suffered immensely from this experience and my body caved in to the pressure as I suffered stress, my periods stopped, I had panic attacks and I had depression.
These are a few highlights of my life in the church. I did have good and wonderful times but what exactly was the premise I based the happiness on anyway when the very ones you love and share spiritual things with turn on you like ravening animals?
I left the meetings in 1991. I hope that some day I can sort all this out and find the peace I need so much.
Peggy Deach (nee Theriault)
March 1997
My maternal grandparents came into contact with this religious group around the 1940's, and my father's maternal grandparents probably around the same time or earlier. I had heard stories of them searching for religion and coming into contact with these two ministers who showed them the "true way". If I had continued to follow in their footsteps, as I was expected, I would have been a fourth generation member of the church, something to be proud of.
We were raised to believe that we were very religious and spiritual people, as our life focussed around the "meetings" and the "workers". We believed with all our heart that we were among the chosen few, yet we rarely understood the Bible, or even the doctrine of "truth". We were never read to from the Bible, nor talked to about God or the scriptures at home. Everything we needed to know about religion, we were to learn from the meetings and good examples of others. We never discussed with the workers or other "friends" of spiritual things, but rather about the work of this ministry in other areas. When other Christian people spoke of how they had found Jesus and had been saved, the "friends" and workers would mock them behind their backs and laugh at the foolishness of false religion. We were taught and believed that this way was the only way that was right; the only way to heaven. Anyone who didn't get to know God and Jesus through this church would perish for all eternity.
What would happen if I left the church? I knew the answer all too well, as it had been drilled into my head since I was a young child. I would be bound for a lost eternity. I believed with all my heart, that this was the only way, yet, why did I believe this? I believed it, because it was all I ever knew. It was all I had ever heard about from the workers. I believed it, because I was afraid of the reprimanding and disapproval I would get for not believing it.
Then as I became a teenager, I began, like most teens, to rebel. Only my rebellion was on the inside. I never showed how I felt, because that would show a "bad spirit" which would not look good for the workers. I began to think of leaving the church, even before I professed to be a part of it. But this was ridiculous. Where would I go? Who would I go to? I had no friends outside of the group, and the only "non-professing" relatives were in other provinces. How would I escape the meetings, with my parents right beside me? Most of all, what would the workers and "friends" think of me then? I professed at a convention at age fifteen because I was now "of age" and it was expected, but I still had these same feelings, the same urge to leave, with the same old questions. I became embarrassed of myself and my family. I hated to be seen on a Sunday or Wednesday night or a gospel meeting night, all dressed up, carrying my Bible and hymn book. I hated to be around people when they discussed what they had done on Friday night, while I was sitting in a gospel meeting. I sat in gospel meetings for years, wishing with all my heart that I could be anywhere else; be normal. I hated bowing my head in a restaurant, while others were looking at us. I began to hate going places with my family, and the "friends". We were so different. People always asked me after why the women always wore dresses and weird hairdos. I hated when people talked about sports, dances, movies they had seen, songs they liked or meeting each other after school. I knew nothing of these things. Slowly I was beginning to hate my life, and myself. I began to withdraw into myself, and suffer alone.
I chose to suffer, because we were told that we must suffer through these things for Jesus' sake. So I continued to go to meeting every Sunday and Wednesday believing that if I didn't suffer now, I would suffer for all eternity.
Still, I wanted out; I needed out; I wanted the life that "normal" people had; I wanted to be me, but how could I do it? I spent many disturbing nights in fear and guilt.
At 22 years of age, after six and a half years of professing, I left "the truth" behind, and ventured out into a totally new world.
It wasn't long before a worker came looking for me. Once again, it was enforced that "losing out of the kingdom" would ensure a ticket to hell. He expected me to turn and run back to meeting with dust flying behind me. After all, I had been a perfect saint, why wouldn't I? Wrong. I was a good actor, not a good little professing boy. I was out, and this time there was no facade. He pleaded that night for me to read and pray, which would help me. That was all the care and concern that I got. I rarely heard from him again.
At times I would meet some the "friends" on the street or in the store. The sight of these people sends you on an automatic guilt trip, heart pounding faster, looking for a place to escape to. One tends to go or look in the other direction, or fumble with something, pretending you haven't seen them, until either you or they are gone. Guilt and embarrassment. As I continued to hide on these occasions, I began to think about what I was doing. If they knew I was hiding, they would be saying things like, "He feels guilty because he's living in sin," or "He knows he's wrong, and he's embarrassed." I began to greet them as I had before.
I attended a gospel meeting not long after I left the church, and the reaction I got from the"friends" was unbelievable. Many of the young "friends" stood off in a group staring at me, making me feel more uncomfortable and out of place than I already was. Out of forty some young people at that meeting, I could count on one hand the number that came and spoke to me. All I got from the others were cold, hard stares, and not because they didn't know me. I got such a horrible reception, I decided I wouldn't go back, even just to see the people, as I had that night. This is normal among the group, as the workers encourage the "friends" to not associate too much with those who have left the group. The reason behind this, is that they are afraid that those on the outside will begin to influence those on the inside. After I left the group, it was as though I had died. I rarely received any phone calls or invitations from the "friends." I knew it would be this way though. I really didn't want to associate with them, as I was trying to get away from the group, but it showed how much they really cared.
The first few months after leaving the church were both wonderful and depressing. They were wonderful because for the first time in my life, I was doing things that made me happy. I did things that I enjoyed doing. I went places I wanted to go. I was living my life, not the workers'. These were also difficult months for me. I didn't fit in with the "friends", because I was now an outsider. They treated me different now. I was a sinner, and therefore not to socialize with. I also didn't fit in with the "world." I had lived a separated, segregated life for so long, that I had no idea how to even begin to fit in to my new world. I had to learn to come out of my shell and make friends, despite my lack of knowledge of this new way of life. Another thing that made this time difficult, was guilt and shame. Often I would think, "What if the workers were right? Then what would I do?" I felt shame because I had gone against the workers, and guilt, because, "what if I was wrong?"
It was about this time, that I found the truth about "the truth." I had been told since I was a child, that this "truth" had been continued on from Jesus' day. That the workers today were continuing the work of Peter, Paul and other "workers" in the Bible. This was direct and uninterrupted from the New Testament days. We were told that the church took no name, because Jesus took no name for what he taught. We were taught by example, to have no respect for other churches, because they were all false religion. It was acceptable to scoff at and make fun of other religions and beliefs, Christian or not, and doing this in front of the workers, would give them the idea that you had a deep understanding of "truth." We all heard how anyone who had left "truth," had led a life of misery, embarrassed to come back, and those who did return, were an example to the rest of us that this was the only way. In reality, for most of these cases, it was the only way they had ever known; the only way they knew how to live, and feeling like misfits in the world, they would return to what they felt most comfortable with.
Was all this true about the beginning of "the truth"? I was typing out some old workers' lists once, of the time that the "truth" came to Canada. I began to wonder why there were no lists before the turn of the century. There were no pictures of workers before this time. Where were records of workers between Bible days and the late 1800's? But I knew I must never question it.
When I was eleven years old, there was an advertisement in our local newspaper. It was to order a book about "Two by two's." I remember my sister saying how terrible it was that these people were going against the true way of God. This was the first time that I had heard doubts about "truth," and after hearing the workers degrade the book and anything written about "truth", I had a stronger desire than ever to read it. It took eleven years, but I finally had that book in my hands! The Secret Sect, by Doug Parker. Just prior to leaving the church, someone in the same city was mailing letters, tracts, etc. to the friends. I never received any, and never was told what was in them. All the workers and friends ever said, was that this person had a wrong spirit, was bitter towards "truth," and it was the works of Satan. I found out two years later that this person had found the truth. The real truth.
I began my search for the truth. I started at the library, searching through religion encyclopedias, and ended up with three books at the check-out counter. Because we were forbidden to read any material that was written about "truth," I still had a guilty feeling, checking over the shoulder, as I was signing out the books, even though I wasn't even professing. I did it though, I had waited eleven years to read these. I also found a web site on the internet, under The Church Without a Name. There is so much information out there, and the "friends" are forbidden to read it. While reading, they can see so clearly why the workers don't want them to read it. The truth is all there. Origins in Ireland in 1897 with Wm. Irvine; the names that this nameless unregistered church has registered with governments; right down to the differences from country to country, state to state, worker to worker of this church that is supposedly the same the world over.
So how does one become the perfect Two by two? Fitting the mold seems very easy to do, but in reality is very stressful on your daily life. When I professed, I didn't profess for salvation. I professed so that I could fit in and be accepted in the church. I couldn't fit in if I wasn't professing, because I wouldn't be one of them. I couldn't fit in with "the world", because I didn't know how the rest of the world lived. I professed, not to know God, but to live my life the only way I ever knew how. The strain on your daily life to be the perfect professing person has a great effect on your mental health and personality. One feels worthless, because only the workers are worthy before God; unaccepted by society; discouraged because you could never fit up to the standards of the workers; embarrassed of the odd lifestyle. We were taught to hide our feelings; don't talk about or show them, while at the same time struggling to show your joy. A joy that was never there. Many become shy, uninteractive with people outside of the church, and unable to make decisions that involve other people. We wanted to please others, so let them make the choices; putting others before yourself. We were never to question the workers. They knew best,and that's all there was to it. We must agree with the workers, even if we didn't feel right about what it was we were agreeing to. Constantly, we had to give in to others and never admit our misery. This loyalty to the church left one feeling intimidated, inferior and with a low self-esteem. So, to be the perfect Two by two, there are three requirements; submission, self-denial and silence.
I lost my childhood and teenage years to this group. The years that affect one's life the most were totally immersed in "the truth". We were constantly attending meetings. Sometimes four nightsa week, and twice on Sunday. We were required to attend one four day convention every year, and if we could make it to more, we would gain praise from the workers. As I grew towards my teenage years, I began to despise going to meetings and conventions. I felt the pressure of the workers wanting me to profess. From that time until I did profess, I made absolutely sure that I was never left alone in a room with a worker. I did not want to be questioned as to why I "hadn't made my choice".
The legalism of the church leaves people socially stunted. We were unaware of what happened in the real world. We were ignorant of things that were a part of every other child's life. Sesame Street, Flintstone's and Disney were strangers in our house. We knew some of the characters, but only briefly encountered them in story books. When the other kids talked about movies and TV shows that they had seen or enjoyed, we felt stupid, because, not only did we not see it, but we had no idea what the show was about or who the actors were and what they were like. When we did have the occasional opportunity to watch TV at an unprofessing relative's, we would act those scenes out for months, having got a taste of the real world. It was embarrassing when faced with comments like, "What, you don't know who Kevin Costner is?," or other Hollywood stars. We were taught that we must put up with this embarrassment because Jesus faced scorn and shame by the world, and we must live like Jesus. In reality, we were following the workers.
Our leisure life was under control as well. I never wore a pair of shorts, sandals or a muscle shirt until after I left the church. We were not to do anything on Sunday except attend meetings and visit "friends". Having to wear dress clothes from ten o'clock a.m. until bedtime on Sunday, we were forbidden to ride bikes or play outside, so we would spend hours on a Sunday afternoon playing board games. To this day, I hate most board games. Whenever people questioned me on why we did or didn't do certain things, I became very embarrassed about who I was, and kept my distance from people for fear they would think I was strange. I had no identity among social groups at school. We could never really make friends with the "worldly" kids. There were the sportive type, but we had nothing in common because sports were forbidden; there were the brainy kids, but they formed clubs, and we had to go straight home after school; there were the good Christian kids, but they were considered heathen and we were righteous. That left only one group; the misfits and loners. That is who we played with on the playground and ate with in the lunch room. Other than that, we never saw school kids outside of school. I remember one time another schoolboy followed me home, wanting to be friends. He had arrived not too long before from Vietnam. I tried to tell him to go home, but he wanted to come in. I knew he shouldn't, so after what seemed like an eternity, he left, probably wondering why I would be friendly to him at school, then so cold to him in front of my house. The workers told us that we can not have fellowship with those who do not know God, so we should avoid spending time with them other than at work or school. In our community, the only young "friends" we saw were while visiting relatives or at the meetings. We never chummed with them, but kept only amongst ourselves. I never had a close friend until I was twenty-two years old, after having left the church. We were told that if we ever felt lonely, we had a friend in Jesus. This is hard for a child to understand,especially when we had no friends, how we could have a friend in a spirit, I could not understand.
Associating with the other "friend's" kids was not something we did a lot of. The main reason for this was that there were only two in our town, and they were older than me. The other reason was that they had "worldly" friends and we couldn't, so the effect of their friends on them might wear off on us.
We took vacations, but they always included conventions. We never stayed in hotels, always at some of "the friend's" or professing relatives, rarely with relatives outside of the group; never went to a lake or camp ground, but spent our summer weekends working at convention preparations.
When I left home to go to school in another city, I wanted to stay at the dormitory, where deep in my heart, I knew I would be able to be free from "truth". I found that this was not an option. If I didn't have a place of my own, I was expected to live with "friends". It was my first time away from home, so I still had to be under the influence of "saints and workers".
One year later, I moved into my own apartment. In a few months, I made my decision to leave"truth" behind and to begin a new life ... my life. I felt like a prisoner set free after twenty years. Where do I go from here? What have I missed? What was new and exciting for me, was old news for everyone else. I had lived a restricted childhood, and arrived in the outside world of adulthood ... lost.
December 1996
I was born and bred in the 2x2s, left at the age of 19, am now 22 and attend a main stream Christian Church. I believe I have salvation by the grace of God through faith in the finished work of Christ's sacrifice on the cross. I also believe in a triune God - Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and I uphold the Word of God (scriptures as contained in the Bible) as the final authority for all Truth.
When I grew up in the truth I was quite content, lived by all the rules, honored the workers, etc. I had nothing to complain of, no really nasty experiences, and fitted in well, as I had a very large family all professing. When I reached the age of 16 I really began questioning things. You see - I had met some other Christians, and what they believed was very different from what I had been taught my whole life! Well, I blocked everything out for a long time, but eventually I was forced to face facts for myself. And I began to study the Bible in earnest. I was SHOCKED by what I found. There was NO SCRIPTURAL BASIS for the 2x2 ministry, their way of going about homeless and penniless, of buildings built for worship being evil, etc. About this time I also heard about Jesus being God for the very first time in my life. And I didn't believe it! NO WAY! So I set out to prove it false. But the evidence mounted, and I began to really look at the Bible passages. Eventually I had to admit it was true!
And I started TO ASK QUESTIONS!!! At first the workers tried to be polite, but it became obvious they had no answers for what I read in the Bible that contradicted their beliefs. Many times I sat with them with an open bible, trying to show what the scriptures said. But they wouldn't even open their Bibles! They just repeated over and over things like "What are you trying to prove?" "You must just have faith and believe what we tell you" "You are being led astray and blinded". I found out the RULES of arguing with a worker very quickly. You can ask a question, but must immediately accept the FIRST response you get from the worker. If you disagree or try to bring scripture into it - FEEL THE CHANGE IN CLIMATE!!! Things turned cold and nasty on me VERY QUICKLY. Stress mounted continually, and I eventually had a nervous breakdown, suffering severe mental and physical effects. At this time I heard the True Gospel (at a University Campus, and later at a local church) and became assured of my salvation. I went back to the workers to tell them that real Christians did exist in other churches, and what I believed (from the Bible). Well, I was told that a relationship with God outside of THE WAY was IMPOSSIBLE!! I was mocked, scorned, sneered and laughed at (literally) and then told I was the Antichrist! They then kicked me out in the cold and let me know very clearly that I would be sorry for this in years to come, and would have to come crawling back to them some day! I have to admit that I have never been so shocked in my life. Those lovely, helpful, gentle workers, NOT!! I only wished the rest of the friends could have seen their behaviour.
I have since read the testimonies of many other ex-members of the 2x2 church. For those of us who found the TRUE Gospel and challenged the workers on what they taught - all hell broke loose!
If you have not gone through a painful experience like this and exposed the REAL errors in the sect (including the huge coverup and deceit surroundingthe founder William Irvine) you probably just consider the friends a quaint, gentle people. But I would suggest that maybe you have not really asked the workers any difficult questions!
The majority of the friends I grew up with were lovely, zealous God-fearing people. But what they have been taught is horrific; and the "doctrines" taught by the 2x2s are false. I would exhort anybody reading my testimony (who is still a member of this group) to search the scriptures for yourself, and pray to God our Creator who is all-merciful, all-loving and all-wise.
Elizabeth Coleman
PO Box 199, Woden ACT 2606 AUSTRALIA
My mother was raised in a seemingly quaint little church which had always been referred to as "The Truth". My Grandpa had always had Sunday morning meeting in his home, and did so until the day he died. It was always held on our family that Mom's church was right...all others were worldly and wrong. Our family was very divided. My mother had left the church for long enough to marry my Dad, who was a staunch Catholic. With my mother's whole side of her family immersed in "The Truth", my brother and I were always infused with the belief that Dad's church and all others that met in a building or had paid preachers, were wrong. My brother did not buy it...he remained Catholic, but I was very close to my mother. Mom decided to go back to "The Truth" when her marriage was beginning to fall apart. I was about twelve years old, and she asked me if I wanted to go along. The only expereince I had had was just at the meetings at Grandpa's house...I had never been to a gospel meeting. It was unclear to me how Mom even knew about this meeting....she must have been planning to go for some time. Soon, mother re-professed, and I professed for the first time at the age of 13. I remember telling my Dad I did not want to be Catholic anymore. He was furious. In two more years, my parents were divorced. You see, my mom did not tell my Dad she was going back to her old church. Her appearance just started to waste away. It was the end of it all, and the beginning of so much more.
I lost my childhood in this church...trying to live up to the "image" of the sister workers. I was told what I could and could not do in school...I was a singer...instead I had to be in band. I stayed in to please my mom...but I never had any friends. I was a little overweight, and did not have the boys pining away for me like other girls did...(after all, what WAS convention for? It seemed that was all the girls ever did was chase the boys for four days!) I did not fit into this scene. At the age of fifteen my brother began dating a lovely girl named Sarah. She used to give me Amy Grant tapes for Christmas, and recorded a lot of Christian contemporary music for me. I was thrilled!! I loved the music!! Mother told me to beware, but it was too late. I had already had many conversations with Sarah...about what she believed, and the joy she had AS A CHRISTIAN.
But I was scared, and a year later I professed again, because I had stopped taking part for awhile before that...especially after talking to Sarah, and having many other doubts besides. It did not last, though, because Sarah introduced me a girl named Ann just two weeks later. Ann invited me to her church, and it was the most breathless experience I have ever had. People were praising and worshipping God as I had never seen...I was scared out of my mind!! But somehow I knew that God deserved that praise...and no one in "The Truth" ever even TALKED about Jesus (outside of meeting), much less praise Him like this!! So I excitedly told Mom what I had found...that I had given my heart to Jesus and I was saved. She was so upset that she cried!!! She told me that Sarah and Ann were GOOD people, but they were going to hell!! I did not believe it for a moment...I simply asked Mom to prove, FROM THE BIBLE what she said about my friends. She could not.
I am out...for good. I chopped off my hair right after I left, not to prove anything, but the feeling of knowing God loved me NO MATTER WHAT was wonderful....and it still is!!
I grew up about 12 miles from _______ convention. I professed when I was 11, along with 2 of my sisters. My mother professed before she was married but we seldom got to meetings when I was small. My Dad never professed. He had some dealings with 2x2's and got cheated badly when I was a child so he figured most of them were hypocrites. My oldest sister professed for a few months and then quit forever because the workers wouldn't give her straight answers to her questions and she could never believe that the way was from the beginning without a man starting it. She always said that the fun went out of life when we all professed, something I didn't realize until much later.
I guess we were in pretty good books with the workers as we loved them and they loved us. We enjoyed having them come and visit at convention time. I can remember standing to my feet at convention to make my choice and just doing it to follow Jesus in what I thought was the only way to heaven. I never did get any joy from it. I worked very hard at salvation after that keeping a very high standard in the workers' eyes. I was good at going to just about every meeting but I was starting to hate it deep down but kept that well hidden. It was all appearances because in my heart as I grew older it seemed something was very much missing and I never could "get" it. I would meet other people who said they were Christians and they seemed to have a lot more joy than what I ever had and I kept wondering why when I was in the Only Way. The older I got the more depressing I found it to be to have to look like Victorian aged women. I think the legalistic rules on appearance is a lot harder on a woman than a man.
After professing for 35 years my sister starting looking into things and gave me "The Secret Sect" and "Has the Truth Set You Free?" As I read these books I started to realize that the 2x2 way was wrong and I quit right there and then in my heart and stopped going to meetings about 4 months later. It was when I read in Luxon's book about the right doctrine and found out for the first time in my life that Jesus was God Himself come to die for me that I believed and was saved. It was like a light went off in my brain and a huge ton of bricks lifted off my shoulders and my heart was filled with a tremendous joy for the first time in my life. I have always believed that Jesus was the Son of God and was from everlasting to everlasting and was divine and was sitting in heaven interceding for us, but I never got saved from that. I didn't know about Salvation by Grace or how to accept Jesus into my heart as my Saviour but believed in the 2x2 system as the perfect and Only Way for my Salvation. It's been over four years now that I've been set free!!!
In the 2x2s we were trained not to show our emotions for anything. An old 'loving' worker at my mother's funeral said to me, "Just remember when you cry you're only crying SELFISH tears," which implied very strongly to me that it was wrong to cry and sent me on a GUILT trip - major. I can remember the terrible pain of having to hold it all in to keep up appearances. About ten years later I put a question about it in a hat at a question and answer meeting and the young worker there said, "Oh a worker wouldn't say that, it must have been misunderstood." So much for unity. After my mom's funeral it was a major turning point for me. The workers all came tumbling off the pedestal. I found that neither they nor the 'friends' had any comfort or care to give but left me alone.
I also think that sometimes we don't "get" it about Jesus being God because God has to open our eyes and reveal it to us even if it's plainly stated. It used to upset me a little when my husband would tell people that it might not be the only way but it was the best way, because I KNEW it was the ONLY way. And when people would ask us what we believed he would tell them about Trinity (this actually only happened about 3 times in 25 years) and it would just blow right over my head. Even though I thought it was kind of neat, it sometimes made me a little uncomfortable as I never heard any one else ever say those things. But mainly I was just glad that he could tell them what he believed because I sure never could.
Now I KNOW in Whom I Believe and am Saved by Christ the Great and Almighty God and Saviour,
8/96
In my mid twenties I met several very nice people who were always friendly, polite, courteous and hospitable. The years went by and I got to like them even though I couldn’t really figure out what made them "tick." Eventually they invited me to their Gospel meetings and eventually I accepted their offer and I met more and more of the friends. Their workers dropped in to my house to visit with me on a weekly basis and I continued going to their Gospel meetings. I felt accepted by these quiet unassuming people. And one day I professed. I accepted God into my life—or so I thought!
Once on the "inside" I saw and heard a different scenario . I began to understand that these people believed they were in God’s ONLY TRUE WAY and the ONLY way to heaven! Gulp! What? I didn’t know they believed THAT! And now I was one of them!
And I was afraid.
I was afraid that should they be right and this WAS God’s ONLY true way I would go to a lost eternity if I ever left their group.
I kept quiet about how I felt—afraid that if they were right and I left I would suffer in hell forever. So I stayed and stayed and stayed. I waited and waited and waited for God to reveal to me, as he must have done with them, that this was His ONLY true church. I waited over a decade! I walked in their way. I waited in their way. I took on their acceptable standards. I attended all their required meetings and conventions. And I waited. And I was afraid.
They also believed their Way was "from the beginning" and had no founder but in due course I learned different. Still I was afraid and it took me another eight months to finally break from this group and from these people that I loved and, for the most part, respected. And still I was afraid until, in God’s loving kindness, He showed me what I needed to know about Himself and His Son and about His plan of Salvation.
Now I’m free at last and hold Christ as my Savior and God.
Sometimes God goes to great lengths to get our attention. For me I had to get involved in a false way before I reached a point of needing Him more than anything else in the world.
Praise Be To God, I’m Free Because Of the Sacrifice of Jesus.
"If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." John 8:36
8/96
- Sandi Gunther, Canada
My parents professed when I was eight years old so I grew up in "the truth" and I stood to my feet in a convention at age fourteen because my mother told me to. I never ever felt I had a relationship with God. I did what I was supposed to because my parents expected me to and they were very quick to report me to the workers if they didn't think I was obedient enough, humble enough or willing enough.
When I was twenty years old I went to another city for my nurse's training and lived in residence. It was very easy to drift away from the church and great fun to wear lipstick and jewelry, cut my hair, and listen to the radio. I married a non-professing man, had two boys and raised them in the Baptist church. I had gone to several different churches; I finally chose the Baptist church because they seemed to have a love for God and for each other and they baptized by immersion. It was the closest I could find to "the truth." I never for a moment thought any of them would go to heaven--I had been brainwashed all my life to believe "only through the truth." My children needed some religious instruction so I chose a church I felt would be good for them but I myself wouldn't join it and I would never take part in communion because I had a great fear it would be a terrible sin. I truly believed the "truth" was the ONLY way; I just wasn't willing to obey all the unwritten rules.
In 1986 I became very ill with Myasthenia Gravis, a neuromuscular disease. A year later my husband and I separated. I was a wreck physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, spiritually and any other way you can think of. After 43 years of being absent from "the truth" the workers started coming around to visit and the friends invited me to coffee parties. I began going to informal Bible studies with them as well as Gospel meetings.
A few months later I broke my arm and my leg and spent many weeks in a wheel chair in hospital. I developed blood clots in both of my lungs and was in Intensive Care. I realized I could very easily die. I did not want to die without making things right with God and the only way I knew how to do that was to re-profess. One morning at six o'clock I asked a nurse to call my nephew and tell him I wanted to see my minister. He would know where the workers were. By 8 a.m. they were at my bedside. I don't remember what was said but I remember a feeling of peace. When I recovered and returned to my home my leg was still in a cast but the friends would pick me up for Sunday morning meeting. Even though I never stood up in a tested meeting it was considered that I was professing again. Time went on but I never really felt I had a relationship with God although I so desperately wanted one. I thought if I was reading my Bible, praying, going to meeting, someday I would be in the right place at the right time, and like Saul of Tarsus it would happen to me. It never did but for five years I kept pretending, hoping, praying and becoming more and more lonely and disillusioned. The friends were no longer interested in an old, sick, poor woman. I didn't fit into any of their groups.
Two years after I professed my 39 year old son died suddenly. Two sister workers did come to see me that afternoon but not one other person in the whole city (twelve meetings) phoned me or visited me. No one put their arms around me and said they were sorry. I received two cards from professing people, dozens from non-professing former friends and co-workers. There were even unexpected flowers. My son wasn't professing so it seemed it didn't matter that he was gone and I was bereft.
That started my doubts as to the kind of people these so-called "friends" were. If they were God's children and didn't love me then I came to believe God didn't love me. I became terribly depressed. My Myasthenia grew more incapacitating and I started missing meetings. I felt I had nothing to take for a testimony. I was too unworthy to take part in communion. I was too embarrassed to be there and not have a part. It seemed no one missed me. I was desperate to stay in. I didn't want to be out. I decided to travel to visit my professing aunt and uncle and long time professing friend hoping they would help me. Instead I was lectured. I was made to feel it was my fault and that I needed to get back to meeting, to pray more, to read more. I felt ashamed and that God could never love me nor would He want me to be part of His family. I wrote to my elders, who were also my niece and her husband, telling them I would no longer be going to meeting but I hoped that there could still be a family tie. I wrote to a few others telling them I hoped we could still be friends. No one responded. When I returned home no one phoned to say "can I help, are you in trouble?" No one called, no one visited, not even ONE worker. I didn't really want them to contact me, but was very surprised when they just let me go without even trying to find out why. I was even more surprised to find people I sat next to in meeting passed me in the street without even a greeting. Now I know that is what is done to someone who leaves. It is called shunning.
I really thought I was condemning myself to hell when I stopped going to meeting so it was as though an enormous weight was lifted when I found out the so-called "truth" was started by a man named William Irvine in 1897 and the whole thing was based on his rules and regulations. It was all a sham--not handed down from Christ at all but a cult where control was tightly maintained through fear. Ask a question and you were accused of being unwilling, use your own discretion and your part in meeting would be taken away.
I left "the truth" three years ago and now I have a wonderful sense of freedom--no guilt, no fear. I go to different churches, love the music, and enjoy the Christmas and Easter celebrations. I still have a very real problem accepting that salvation is God's free gift to us. I have too many years of believing my salvation depends on how good I am, how long my hair is, whether I wear slacks, or if I have a TV. I seem unable to choose one church and settle there, but I don't believe it is important to do so.
This church affected my entire life. Even though I was away from it from the age of twenty to sixty-four I was still controlled by it. Now I'm happy to be free of that bondage and to know that God loves me unconditionally.
4/96