Cult Information > Print & Internet Resources > Testimonials > More Information

COLLEGE STUDENT'S TESTIMONIAL

Marissa Termine, August 2001

This is a letter written by a woman who was recruited into a Christian Bible-based group called the ICC (International Churches of Christ) while during fall of her Freshman Year at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J.

When I began my freshman year in 1997, 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 six months ago, 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.

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 if I would meet my future husband there. 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.

A few weeks after I moved into my dorm, my high school boyfriend and I ended our relationship. We had been together for three years and the break-up left a huge hole in my heart. I felt completely alone. At about the same time, in mid-October, I was invited by a fellow student to an off-campus bible discussion group. I was interested in learning more about God and the Bible at a time in my life when everything seemed so uncertain. The meeting was stimulating, so a week later, I attended a weekend campus retreat with the same group. The deep commitment I saw of over 500 students to their faith intrigued me. 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.

I began a series of eight small-group Bible studies. The other members paid a lot of attention to me. In fact, they made me feel that they had become my best friends almost overnight. Our studies focused on Bible verses, but also implied that The International Churches of Christ was the only true church. Only they understood how to interpret and live by holy scriptures. During these group studies, I was encouraged to talk about myself personally - how I grew up, my family, the boyfriend I had just broken up with, my hopes and fears for my future. This information was woven into subsequent meetings to help the study leader present a stronger and more personal case to me regarding my potential membership in the ICC. Over the next few weeks I became convinced that although I had a Christian upbringing, I wasn't a true Christian because I had simply heard the truth, but hadn't received the proper guidance to live it. The only way to save my soul was to join this church who practiced what they preached and would help me to do the same. A poignant fear began to take root in me too, that if I didn't take this step, I might ultimately go to Hell. So, late one evening at the end of November, I was baptized at my Bible Talk leader's house.

Our mission was to purify ourselves of sin and then unify like a spiritual wall to push sin out of the rest of mankind before it's too late and we destroy ourselves. Our leaders assured us that if we worked hard enough we would be able to accomplish this in one generation. We were soldiers in training for a great war, like an Armageddon, and every breath we took, every thought and action would be devoted to this mighty purpose. 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. Over the next three years I recruited friends, family and strangers - anything that walked on two legs - to a group which I believed without a doubt would be my and the world's saving grace. I attended every meeting the church held. There were Sunday and Wednesday night services, weekly Bible talks, Friday night college devotionals and Saturday night dates with other members. Dating outside of the church was severely frowned upon, 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. 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 in the True Way would distract me, dilute my commitment and perhaps even corrupt my purpose. Tithing was mandatory and as a work-study student earning $50 a week, I gave 10% ($5) of each paycheck to the church. Once a year I was also obligated to give 20 times my weekly donation, or $100 in my case, as a "Special Missions Contribution".

I was assigned a discipling partner and I had to report how many people I had managed to invite to meetings each week. If she didn't approve of the number of newcomers I brought, then I was rebuked and scorned during our small group bible study meetings. My fellow members watched me all the time and reported any unacceptable behavior to my discipling partner - supposedly for my own good - to keep me on the right track. One time I was scolded for riding in a car with a non-member Rutgers student, and another time for choosing to visit my father on his birthday rather than attend a Wednesday night worship service. I also had to confess all of my sins of thought and deed. 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. Sleep deprivation, over-stimulation from the church's demands and constant surges of adrenalin triggered from my fear of reprimand for mis-deeds, made it hard to think straight. A cloud of anxiety and fatigue accompanied me everywhere.

Perhaps this is starting to sound like a cult to you, but in my blind exhaustion I couldn't discern anything beyond simply surviving the next minute. Besides, a cult was a place where they drank poison Kool-Aide and committed suicide, and no one was asking me to kill myself for the cause, so how could this be a cult? Right! What I didn't realize was that something was begin 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 my mind and body cried out in agony, I countered with rationalizations. After all, I was following the Bible and obedient to God's will - a spiritual warrior in training, no different than any athlete preparing for the upcoming Olympics. Pain and frustration were to be expected when challenging my limits of endurance, but this was the price to be paid for throwing off the bondage of sin in order to free and empower my spiritual self. The path to God is narrow and rocky, but there is no other way to get there. Besides, glorious rewards lay in the future, especially reserved for those of us courageous enough to endure the assault on the front lines. My conflict was perpetually intense, but I dutifully submerged it by reinforcing my focus toward the mission.

In the fall of my junior year, I began a relationship on the internet with a church member in Illinois. Several months later, I flew out to visit him with great anticipation of finally connecting with the right man. However, the guy I had been so excited about was nothing like I expected and I returned home humiliated with dashed hopes. I needed a shoulder to cry on and someone to care about my disappointment, but all my fellow church members gave me was indifference. They told me to "get over it" and "concentrate on saving the lost". I was in an emotional crisis and the people who I had shared my life with for the past three years, like fellow comrades in an army battalion - 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 crisis was my wake-up call, and for me, the beginning of the end. I tried to keep up my familiar schedule of meetings and services, but my heart just wasn't in it anymore. One night I finally broke down and shared my distress with my mother. She said she knew someone who could help me and asked if I would be willing to speak with him. He was what's called an "exit counselor" - an expert in cult mind control. Although I was open, I was also terrified, still believing I would lose my salvation if I ever left the ICC. A few weeks later, Dave Clark - the exit counselor, arrived, and he stayed at our house for four days. He knew all about the ICC, having researched the organization since 1980, the year I was born. He knew exactly where all the donated money was really going - to finance a luxurious lifestyle for the leaders, not to charity. 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 which 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, and that the benevolent front presented by them, to save the world, was just a ruse to seduce my idealistic, well-intentioned and trusting mind and heart. My head split open with the 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. I spent every spare moment for the next month on the internet reading hundreds of former members' stories, all appallingly similar to mine. I had finally awakened from a 3-year coma.

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, and 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 can never get it back. That really hurts.

There are over 3000 known cults in the United States, with memberships anywhere from one individual to thousands. Close to 180,000 people become new members every year and a large portion of them are recruited as college students just like me. It is a time in our lives when we are particularly vulnerable, inexperienced and idealistic. Cults are professionals at deception and manipulation and they take advantage of human needs and weaknesses which most people don't even know they have. For the most part cults recruit intelligent, passionate and capable people and use mind control techniques to subtly but profoundly change their thinking in order to serve the cult's agenda. This is called brainwashing. It is not possible to easily identify a cult because they mask their intentions behind a benevolent front, blending in with legitimate churches and other humanitarian organizations. It is not easy to identify a member of a cult - for their members come from all walks of life. The may be of any race, religion, occupation or personality. They are professionals, college students, athletes, movie stars and entire families. Nor can you conclude that one person is a cult candidate and another is not. You can not protect yourself with smart, critical thinking, because cults speak to and control you through your emotional needs, not your mind. Every person passes through periods of emotional vulnerability. If at that time a predator comes along, who speaks the words you long to hear, who makes you feel the way you long to feel, the transition from independent, free-willed citizen to cult puppet may be made. It is simply a matter of being in the wrong state of mind, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.


This is a short article written by a cult survivor named Liz Shaw.

Looking through our files yesterday, I was struck by how many cults and abusive churches use the word "family" in their title. Others make use of the words "brothers", "sisters", "children" etc.

In retrospect, I can remember how the cult I became involved with went to great lengths to make me feel part of a new family, while persistently denigrating my own family of origin. Normal, growing-up experiences were reinterpreted by the group to make my real family seem dysfunctional and even abusive. I was urged to face my family and confront them on what I realize now were some ridiculous and unfounded charges. The problems began when my poor, unwitting loved ones weren't ready to acknowledge these imagined sins. Once they "refused to accept responsibility", I was required to "let them go" so that they would ultimately learn from the pain of my separation from them. Yeah, right! I was so arrogant and accusatory, they were probably relieved to let ME go!  The cult won by playing us against each other.

Thankfully, I am now reunited with my family and they have been gracious and forgiving for my outrageous behavior while under the group's influence. Currently, countless young people are going off to college for the first time. Many are eager to try out their new wings of independence. That is as it should be, but I do want to sound a warning. There are many counterfeit families out their waiting to prey on these new fledglings. Don't become a casualty of "love bombing" by these people. And while you are at it, continue to love your family, warts and all.

 
© Copyright 2010 by Ace Academics, Inc.
550 Durie Avenue, Suite 301
Closter, New Jersey 07624
Tel: 201-784-0001, Fax: 201-784-7704