Learned Helplessness

I used to think of the “church” all the time. I dreamed of it - the building and the people. I find myself thinking of them less and less. But, they come up in my reactions. In the way I view the world and the people of the world.

I have no doubt and no hesitation in calling what went on when I was there -- and what continues to happen -- brainwashing. I know you will all deny it. You have been programmed to deny it. But, whether you are able to acknowledge it or not, it is the truth.

Is the brainwashing intentional? At this point, I don’t believe there are nefarious motives. Just tradition. And fear. The way things have been done for generations. All you know. In fact, I believe the brainwashing varies from household to household. But, it’s clearly still going on.

As the folks my age (40s) are now becoming grandparents, what is passed on in the form of religious beliefs is more and more hearsay and ingrained acceptance of the word of man than the actual words of God.

It is debilitating to be under the control of a crowd - an organization - who are ruled by a strange and unreliable game of generational gossip.

Last spring, I was interviewed about the death of another FOC baby. I said I felt sorry for the family. It’s true. That baby didn’t have a chance and neither did the baby’s parents. They were young (the baby’s grandparents are younger than me!) and they were under the control of an organization they never chose for themselves. Now, they have lost custody of their other baby and are facing criminal charges and prison time.

It is not a sin to get medical care for your babies. It really isn’t a sin. You should pray and use the resources God has provided - including medical professionals. Putting your faith in God is good, but not researching your professed faith for yourself is just helplessness. And helplessness can cost you dearly.

Endless Life: Feeling Trapped

Note: I've been on hiatus from blogging for a while, but I am working on a few new entries. Thank you to anyone who might still check this blog :)

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At age 20, life can drag on and on. Actually life can drag at any age, when a person feels trapped.

“But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.” – 2 Peter 3:8 (NIV)

When I was seventeen, the decisions of two individuals caused my social life to end within the FOC. Of course I realize that my own decisions, words, and actions over the months and years prior to this time led up to these little shunnings. But although I had said and done some stupid and hurtful things, I hadn’t committed any “unforgivables”. I just wasn’t lucky enough to be born at the right time, or into the right family, or whatever. The fact was I had suddenly become a pariah.

So for three years I lived in a state of essential, though unofficial, shunning. Almost nobody talked to me, except this one guy, J--, who verbally assaulted me every chance he got while everyone mutely watched/listened. For three years I went to the social events and talked to virtually nobody. Toward the end, I talked to a few other similar pariahs, but I never had a chance of social success after those two people decided to destroy me.

Those three years were an eternity. Can you imagine? Three years of attending church services twice weekly, without being greeted or spoken to, or in any way acknowledged. Three years of attending dances and home parties and decorating parties while being invisible. Three years of having no life outside of my family and work.

But other things happened during those three years. I went to work and had a fair amount of success in this aspect of my life. I was trained in every aspect of automotive office management: payroll, accounts payable, receivables, warranties, new and used car titling, and month-end reports. At age twenty, I was promoted to office manager, with a staff of older/more experienced employees reporting to me. Something else happened: guys asked me out all the time. Not FOC guys, of course, but worldly guys. I couldn’t believe that so many attractive, charming, successful men would want to date me after all the social silence I’d endured at the FOC. I didn't want to date the entire world, but it was just one more indication that the "reality" I experience in the FOC didn't check with reality elsewhere.

It came down to the decision to continue living as an invisible and unwanted recluse in my parents’ basement hoping that the years of loneliness would pass quickly and the reward (the possibility of salvation for all that sacrifice) would be real or bolt into unknown territory. Was this seemingly meaningless existence even worth it?

"Let It Go" Lyrics & Personal Application #Frozen

While I'm not big on television or movies myself, my seven-year-old daughter loves a good movie. Her first movie obsession - beginning about age two - was "The Little Mermaid". I think she watched that movie at least fifty times. She still loves playing with mermaid dolls in the bath. Then, about a year ago, she discovered "Gnomeo and Juliet" - a movie that I hope will spark her appreciation for Shakespeare one day.

The last few days, she's been watching "Frozen" on repeat mode. It's a well-made movie with some really good songs. One that moved me was, "Let It Go," by Idina Menzel. I'm printing the lyrics to this moving song here, along with my reaction below:

"Let It Go"

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation,
And it looks like I’m the queen.

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried

Don’t let them in, don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know
Well, now they know

Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door

I don’t care
What they’re going to say
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway

It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all

It’s time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I’m free

Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You’ll never see me cry

Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on

My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I’m never going back,
The past is in the past

Let it go, let it go
And I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect girl is gone

Here I stand
In the light of day
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway

This song could easily be a symbol of my last years in the FOC - feeling isolated and stuck. My leaving - "no rules for me - I'm free." And, after many long years of working through the past and overcoming the records playing in my brain, this stanza says it all:

It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all

What Makes Us Different? #BeingAChristian #FaithHealing

I am called stupid and blind; ignorant and closed-minded for believing that the Bible is true and Jesus is real. And yet I believe. I have faith that God is real. 

When someone is sick or hurting, I pray. I don't know what happens to my prayers. I don't know if they're heard anymore. What has happened to faith healing? Does it happen anymore? I have no doubt that it occurred in the past. What makes us, as believers and followers of Jesus, different?

* * * *

Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.

And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him up: and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength.

And he leaping up stood, and walked, and entered with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God.

Acts 3:6-8

* * * * *

Dear Readers: have you experienced miraculous faith healing in your life or your family?

Day 16. Someone or something you definitely could live without #rejection #shunning

There are plenty of “someones” I can live without. I realized that when I was eighteen years old and nearly 100% of the someones I was “permitted” to associate with really wanted little or nothing to do with me. I discovered it again when, at age twenty-one, I married outside the FOC, and everyone I had known or loved up to that point shunned me.

So, to answer this question, let me just say this: I can live without ANYONE who would shun me or cut me out of their life. That’s it. And guess what? As much as I want people in my life, I’m not going to cry myself to sleep over people who clearly despise and hate me.

My Secret Pentecostal Friend

I met her outside our houses a few years ago and we hit it off right away. Our daughters were about the same age and we set up a play date for them. She confessed that the other neighbors didn't like her. The other neighbors seemed shocked at our friendship - she wouldn't talk to anyone (they told me).

I assumed it was a misunderstanding, or shyness, and our friendship continued to deepen. I was occasionally at her house when her husband came home on his lunch break or after work. He was a bit odd, but always friendly. Another family of neighbors went to the same church as my friend, and they were distant cousins. The other family nearly always stayed indoors and didn't speak to anyone in the neighborhood. Rude people.

It turned out my daughter was in classes with the daughter of the "rude" neighbors. As a class volunteer, I got to know their little girl and, through the playground, her older sister. Once I saw the family in public and both little girls ran up to me to chat. Their parents refused to acknowledge my presence (can you imagine?).

About a year into our friendship, my friend started having some problems with her marriage. Her husband told her she couldn't talk to me because I didn't go to their church. They were Pentecostals. She said she couldn't talk to anyone unless they went to her church at that point. Our friendship continued, in secret, and I worried about my friend. I thought it was a sign of possible abuse for her husband to be so controlling of who she could speak to.

And then, last summer, my friend's family moved away and I only heard from her rarely on Facebook. I had almost forgotten her when her daughter showed up in the neighborhood this weekend - staying with the family who doesn't talk to the rest of us (the parents don't; their kids do). 

Seeing her again reminded me of the strange and secret friendship and it reminded me of something else: how, for the first half of my life, being forbidden to associate with outsiders was the norm. How far removed that life is, in nearly every way. I had forgotten the imprisoned feelings. I have come to take for granted the freedoms I now have - that my children have always had: to talk to, socialize with, include anyone. It's a great feeling, and tonight I'm grateful for the freedom I have.

Ten Things You’ll Never See (and/or Hear) at the FOC

Last night, I visited a local church (it was my second time visiting). As I looked around, I thought about all the ways this church (and most churches) differ from the definition of church I grew up with. Here are just ten (of numerous) things I saw/heard at last night’s church service, that I would have never seen/heard at the FOC:

1. A worship band – with electric guitars, loud drums, and women in the worship band.
2. A wooden cross hanging on the wall – topped by a crown of thorns.
3. Worshippers spontaneously standing and lifting their arms to the Lord in praise and adoration.
4. Asians, Hispanics, and African Americans.
5. Someone leading the congregation in prayer (praying aloud).
6. Congregants with their Bibles open (following along with the sermon).
7. Bibles.
8. People taking notes on the sermon.
9. A sermon.
10.  People warmly greeting strangers.

The list can go on endlessly – I didn’t even mention the presence of pastors (seven of them!). Or that one of the associate pastors, who was wearing shorts at church, had a friendly discussion with me about politics. That’s not something that would’ve ever happened at the FOC (a male leader taking the time to discuss politics with an unknown female visitor).

The point of this comparison is not to say one is better than the other – more to discuss the shock that can occur when you only know one definition for a cultural phenomenon (church) and later discover that the overwhelming majority of the Christian culture has a completely different characterization of that same term (church). This was an accepting and positive experience. I didn’t feel judged. I received hugs from a few strangers. They were eager to welcome a new friend into the fold. Imagine.

***

Dear Readers: I am busy this season with the care of my family, so I will only be able to blog weekly. Enjoy your summer and please check back every Sunday for a new post.

F: Freedom

It’s a free country. So, what does it mean to be free? Coming of age in the FOC, I felt anything but free. I was desperate for the freedom to make friends, to date, to go after my dreams. But making friends (outside the group) was forbidden, as was dating. Dreams? Why would I have any dreams? My future was settled: I was a female and would only be a housewife (if I was fortunate enough find a husband to rule over me).

So, my definition of freedom was the liberty to do as I pleased. And for years, that definition continued. When I left the FOC in 1994, I was relieved. I called every worldly person I had ever wanted to befriend and made plans to finally have a social life. It was a fantastic feeling.

In February 2000, I made a commitment and a decision to follow Jesus. I became a born-again Christian. And, my experience with freedom drastically changed. I didn’t know how things would change. I didn’t have a lot of faith in how much God could change my heart and my behaviors. I was in for many surprises.

But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.

Romans 6:22

I have written about the assurance of salvation here on this blog in the past and gotten a lot of pushback from readers. How can someone know they are saved? How can the bible assure us that once we are saved, we are forever saved?

I once heard a preacher discussing the topic of turning your back on God. Can a person lose their salvation if they do that? I do not know the answer. I only know that once we are free from sin (by accepting the gift of salvation), we become slaves to God.

Do all Christians act that way? Ha! Nope. We are still human. But, in my experience, bondage to a holy God looks more like this: when I sin, I am miserable. When I obey, I have peace. The bondage I have happily accepted is the Holy Spirit’s nudging, nagging, sometimes shouting into my life.

So, now I am free from unbiblical restrictions of the FOC, and I am free FROM sin. I am a never free from God; I would never want to be.

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.

Galations 5:1

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Dear Readers,

What does freedom mean to you? I would love it if you left a comment below...

VLOG: Most Embarassing Memory

Last week I published my first VLOG about my NBA pipe dreams. It was too long and repetitive (according to my mom) and had some shaking and lighting issues (thank you to the pros who left constructive feedback). So, in publishing a second attempt, I hope to show some improvement. This one is under three minutes, so it's a quick view. Please leave me feedback so I can continue to improve.

I told you mine; please tell me yours (by commenting below)...

My First Video Blog: Born Too Soon

Dear Readers,

I've been wanting to try v-logging for a while. I hope you enjoy it!

Suzi

Why Are You So Bitter?

Bitter: adjective. Characterized by intense antagonism or hostility. 

(dictionary.com)

In the past seventeen months (since I began this blog), I’ve been accused of being bitter more times than I can count. I’ve come to realize that this is the go-to insult for people to use when they can’t win an argument. And, really, I don’t want to argue with anyone. But I will try to explain my feelings about the Followers.

1. Sympathy. This is my primary emotion when I think of this group. I feel sorry for young women who are made to feel that they are insignificant. For teenage girls who have to wait in a corner for some boy to deem them worthy of a dance or date. Outside of that group – guess what? Girls and women do the choosing. Yes, that’s right! They don’t have to ask boys out (and most do not), but they select who they will go out with – because for every girl, there are several guys vying for her attention. I feel sorry for young women who are born with brains, but advised to downplay their intellect so as to not intimidate boys. I am sad that you do not have the option to go to college. I feel sorry for the young women who marry at age seventeen (often dropping out of high school for this event) and start having children so young. It makes me sad to think of the women there who are living with domestic violence (no – I’m not saying all men abuse their wives – but enough do and there is zero support for the victims).
2. Responsibility. When I learned the GOOD NEWS of Jesus Christ, I felt so shocked! Jesus loves me? Yes! (But, I’m so unworthy). Jesus loves all of us and wants us in heaven. He made it easy for us. I wish someone had told me years sooner. I know how hard that is to accept when you come from the FOC. I thought it was ridiculous! I fought accepting this truth for months, but someone cared enough to persist in praying for me. When I told my family that I’d become a born-again Christian, they tried to disprove that a person could KNOW that they are saved.
3. Nostalgia. I miss some of the people I grew up with. The people I love and care about now would never shun me. But I would love to catch up with some of the people who were, during my formative years, central to my life. I also miss all the great social events and structure: all the support for the sick, grieving, and celebrating.

I never expected to write about this group. I was terrified to do so, but I cannot explain the feeling of freedom that I’ve gotten from doing so. I still feel like a Follower in so many ways though. I would never call someone a “fool.” I would never take God’s name in vain. I would never use the words, “I swear.” Some people say these “nevers” of mine constitute legalism. But, I don’t care – these are values that are important to me. Why disrespect God? I do not want to hurt anyone. And I hope and pray that my words will do more good than harm.

Still think I’m bitter?

Bring Your Pet to Church Day

Many have commented that if that if the long-dead FOC prophet, Walter White, were to walk into a church service today, he wouldn’t recognize it as being his church. In the paralysis left by his death, the church did not stay the same. They have waited sure, but for what? Some wait for another preacher like Walter. Others wait for the end of time. Others are content to not worry about it – avoid personal responsibility. We're not in charge here. It’s better to be kept in the dark. Better not to know.

In fact, one of the things we were told growing up was that it was better to NOT read too much of the Bible. They wanted us to be kept innocent. If we didn’t know/comprehend what the Bible said, how accountable could we be?

I don’t respond to most comments on here, but I do read them. A theme I see running throughout is that every home is different. What everyone seems to agree on is that there is no consensus. How can I speak in such general terms about a large group of folks if I wasn’t raised in their homes?

In the 1960s, Walter White had a dream about the future of the Followers of Christ Church. I don’t have a written record of this dream – but if anyone else has it, I would love to publish it.

In the dream, everyone in the building sat caressing their own pet.  I imagine the dream to look something like a Pokémon trainers’ convention. Walter said that in the future, each person would have their own pet religion.

And people claim White’s prophesies never came true.

Growing Up In a Leaderless Group

When I first started my blog in the summer of 2011, I had several anonymous comments claiming that I couldn't possibly know what I was talking about because I wasn't old enough. The group I grew up in had three elders, then two, then one, and the last one died when I was thirteen. That's when our church services morphed into a bi-weekly gathering to sing ten hymns and a silent prayer.

We had the silent prayer ritual even when we had elders, however one of the elders also prayed aloud for the congregation during each church service. I didn't know that when we knelt as a group for the silent time that we were supposed to be praying until I was a bit older. Even when I sat with the girls (after age seven), I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing and many of my contemporaries didn't either. 

I recently spoke to a young woman who was born after Glenford’s death. She remembered singing ten songs and getting down to pray. One of the older girls told her that it was so an angel could come by and choose who was going to heaven. There was a special needs girl who they told to get up and dance (on a few different occasions – because they were bored) and her mom would come and pull her out by her hair. The girls' parents made them include her and the girls would get her to do bad things sometimes.

The mothers of the girls forbid their daughters from inviting over certain friends. This girl's parents did the same thing. Around the time the new addition was added, she says they started a tradition of singing to the widows. Each of the age groups (separated by gender and ages) got up on the pulpit and sang Christmas carols to the widows.

I remember so much more of church than this young woman and I was born after our prophet died. I was terrified of adults and God and Hell. Things clearly have changed and continue to do so in the group. Who is leading? Who is teaching? Who and what are the influences?

Best New Year’s Parties Ever

“Youth is when you’re allowed to stay up late on New Year’s Eve.
Middle age is when you’re forced.”

- Bill Vaughn

I’ve been to a lot of parties in my life. None of them even come close to the New Year’s parties at the FOC. Even though only the teenagers (and adults) were allowed to dance at these overnight parties, it was still the coolest party ever.

The parties got started in the evening on New Year’s Eve. I don’t remember what time, exactly, maybe 6:00 or 7:30. And they went strong until six o’clock the next morning. Our church had really talented bands that played fun, upbeat, and sometimes even popular music. Every two hours a different band took to the stage and played. Some bands were made up brothers, some of older men who’d been playing together for years, and some of younger guys in their late teens and twenties.

There were stands out all night with free hot dogs and all the fixings and unlimited fountain drinks. It was the only time of year we could get our hands on caffeinated drinks. And of course, we went for cup after cup of Graveyards (i.e., a mixture of soft drinks that’s actually quite disgusting).

It was fun for the younger kids, not just for the junk food and all the soda we could imbibe. We brought sleeping bags to camp out in the long dining room (I can’t remember what we called that room) that was next to the dance floor. The week before New Year’s Eve, the teenagers gathered at the church to decorate and blow up balloons. At just before midnight, all the younger kids gathered below one of the three clear, plastic, bulging vessels waiting for the countdown. Everyone chanted along with the band’s lead singer counted down together “10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The pre-appointed men would pull the corners of the plastic to release the balloons, confetti, and candy at the stroke of midnight. The kids grabbed treats and ran off to enjoy them, while the bands changed and the party went on for six more hours.

My two most memorable New Year’s parties were 1980 and 1990. The party in 1980 was memorable because it was the dawn of a new decade (awesome 80s!) and I collected stacks and stacks of wax-coated green paper 7-up cups – which, miraculously, my parents actually allowed me to take home. There had to be a hundred or more cups (I think around a twelve ounce size), and I spent hours the first weeks of January 1980 making cool stacked cup forts and structures in my bedroom.

Nineteen-ninety was a fun New Year’s party for a different reason. I was sixteen and had a boyfriend. The tradition was for the teenagers to go out for breakfast at 6:00 am, when the New Year’s party ended. We either went to Shari’s or Denny’s. My friends and I went to Denny’s with my brother and his friends (driving my parents’ baby blue mini-van – what nerds!). We went home in the late morning and crashed for a few hours at our house. When we got up in the late afternoon, my boyfriend and his friends were there to take us to Multnomah Falls. It was one of the most memorable days from my teenage years.

When I was a child, I looked far into the future to the year 2000 and wondered if I would still be alive then. I did the math and realized that I’d be twenty-six in Y2K. It was such a disappointing feeling to realize I would be alive, but far too old to enjoy myself by then!

I remember celebrating Y2K like some kind of disaster drill – whoohoo, a new millennium. After stocking up on unnecessary emergency supplies, some friends and I went to downtown Portland to ring in the New Year. All these doomsday people were holding “Turn or Burn” and “The End is Here” placards. Thousands (or hundreds – math isn’t exactly my thing) of young adults packed into the downtown park blocks, pressed up against each other. Music blared, people pushed, then a countdown to midnight. Yay – happy New Year! The crowd dispersed almost immediately. The “party” was over.

The FOC parties don’t have alcohol, and they don’t need it. What they have is talented bands and people who get out on the dance floor. 

I invite you to share your best New Year’s memories, but I’ll bet you’ve never been to a better party than at the FOC J.

Old Memories from Oklahoma to Oregon

As I grew up, I often attended gatherings were older folks would sit around and reminisce about how things used to be. Here is an old story from the Church of the First Born in Oklahoma:

* * * *

A Story Told to Brother Jack Robinson

by Brother Hobart Hays

My father, Brother Dave Hays with his family, was travelling from around Mehan going west to Homestead, Oklahoma, when late in the afternoon he stopped at a store in Langston to get a few groceries for he planned to camp down the trail a ways to eat and spend the night.

While he was in the store another wagon pulled up and the people in it was planning on about the same thing as my father. They met in the store and sort of got acquainted and they decided to camp together that night.

The next morning both families headed west. My father and the other man walked along beside the wagon and visited and my dad talked to him about religion. I was just a young lad then and this other man had a son about the same age as I was so we played together along the way. Later we came to the place where we were to go to Homestead so we told them all goodbye for they were going west to Leedy, Oklahoma.

Sometime later the Homestead Brethren received word that a Brother’s house burned down in Leedy. The Homestead Brethren  took up donations, bedding, and furniture, and my dad and I took it by wagon to Leedy. Other Brethren from Vici came and they all decided to stay and help rebuild the Brother’s house.

The man that we met at Langston lived just down the block from where the house had burned down and he came down to work on the house also. When the Brethren decided that they would like to have a meeting, he offered them his house to have the meeting in. Later he was baptized, his son that I played with was later baptized, also, his name was Brother Andrew Myers, who married Sister Mae Moore. They lived for years in Sapulpa, raised their family in the church there.

 * * * * *

And now a walk down memory lane in Oregon. This picture features the elders from the Oregon City Followers of Christ congregation in 1975. The occasion was the sixtieth birthday celebration of Carl Westerburg.

Carl is in the middle wearing a yellow shirt.  The man on the far right is Glenford Lee.

Prayer Meetings

Last summer, I finally got to meet Jerry Patton (the grandson of Oliver Smith), and his awesome wife, Paula. While we were visiting Jerry mentioned the prayer meetings that were held in the Enid, Oklahoma Followers of Christ group when he was young. These meetings did not require a preacher or pastor to be present.

The meetings could be held in the homes of church members, or at church. The meeting began with the singing of two hymns. Next there was a spoken prayer, followed by two more hymns. A man (any man, young or old) read a passage of scripture and commented on what he had read. Next, each person present – all who had been baptized – regardless of age or gender took turn standing to witness. They recited this script:

“I want to stand as a witness for Christ. I know that I am very weak and unworthy but I want to continue on in this way and I pray for you and I ask for your prayers.”

After each person had stood and recited, the group sung one additional hymn and the prayer meeting ended.

 

Mark Shumaker: A Room With Just One Door

My oldest brother, Mark, left  the Followers of Christ in 1998. He wrote this essay two years after leaving, and has given me permission to publish it here.

* * * * *

February 2000

My most powerful experience with a cultural identity started when I was three and my parents joined the Followers of Christ Church in Oregon City. To understand the impact this church had on my life, you have to understand the church. Some might say this is a cult and they are an integral part of every facet of your life. The internal culture of the church was so all-encompassing and exclusionary that the best way I can think to relate it is to compare it to a room with just one door. Those within the room share a common worldview, and reject anyone that has a perspective slightly different than the accepted norm. Everyone in the room knows about the door but stays clear of it. To experience another perspective is tantamount to rejecting the church; to accept that a differing opinion has validity is like becoming purple. They are a tight-knit group that takes care of their own. Everything you do is based in the church. The members are your extended family. You are told to associate with the Followers, not worldly people. You are encouraged to work for a Follower whenever possible, you socialize with other Followers, every life changing moment is shared with other Followers. We weren’t allowed to go to doctors because our faith should be strong to see us through. We were only to marry someone from within the church, and everybody came to the wedding. It was its own culture, and it was mine as well. All this sounds wonderful except for the fact that if you were not born into the church, you lacked the status it took to rise to higher levels within the church. Higher education was discouraged due to the exposure to worldly ideas and knowledge. The women mostly stayed at home with the children. The church grounded their teachings on the Bible and at some time, all of the doctrines seemed to make sense. The Followers are a very close group, encouraging each other in times of death or illness. It is a kind of security blanket when growing up because you know that if your parents aren’t available for you and you need adult guidance, a friend’s dad or mom will be there for you.

            I played by the rules and was married in this environment, and I kept things going and held my family together until about two years ago. It was then that I discovered how hard it is to withdraw from this type of environment. My wife at the time did not want to adhere to the teachings of the church, in fact, she made it clear that she was rejecting everything I had ever believed or worked for. She made this clear through her actions; what she also made clear was that the marriage was over. I had to try to keep everything together for our family by myself. I made some conscious decisions about my life and the direction I wanted my children’s lives to take. Having one’s marriage fall apart is hard enough, by the idea of losing the backing of the church and my friends in the church was almost more than I could bear. The Followers of Christ church defined my whole world and they did not believe in divorce. There was no longer any place in the “room” for me, my only choice was to leave it. I chose to do so by opening the door. I did not know at that time that doing so would force me to reexamine everything that I ever held as truth or that I ever thought was important. I had to learn to trust others. I realized higher education was something I not only wanted but also deserved. The opportunity to make the best life for my kids and me was very important to me.

            It has been a long road, and it is not over. I do not know that it ever will be. Everything I do or experience I now see through two lenses. The worldview of my youth will most likely shade my perspectives for the rest of my life, but I am learning to view the world through lenses that are less restricting. I question my reactions to most new things to make sure that it is not left over from my previous indoctrination. Periodically I review my beliefs and I question them striving to be ever vigilant in what I accept as truth and what I let alter the course of my life. Since my divorce, I am better able to accept new things in my life. I have started going to a new church, am involved in the Cub Scouts (which wasn’t allowed for me as a youth) and I have a new relationship with a woman who had never heard of the Followers’ church before she met me. The daily walk can still be a tough one at times but I am happier and more self-assured than ever before.

The True Followers

I have received some church history and will be posting snapshots from this very dense material. Please forgive the somewhat confusing diction. Other than minor details, this is the wording used in the original documentation:

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In 1918, when most of the churches changed their names from True Followers of Christ to the name of The General Assembly and Church of the Firstborn, the church that is located between Cleo Springs and Ringwood, Oklahoma decided that to change the name of the church would make them heretics. This resulted in them rejecting all of the other churches.

This church has had many splits since that time. One of the groups that split off years ago have a church that was started by Brother Marion Reece at Ringwood and some of his descendants are still attending that church. Three of Marion Reece’s grandsons were elders of that congregation. The had meetings there on the forth Sunday of the month and every Thursday night. Charlie Smith was the brother that moved to Idaho and started that group there. The brethren that lived west of Enid that go by the True Followers use the scripture for a woman to keep silence in church, and forbid women to speak in prophecy in the church.

The following church history was received by Brother Jack Robinson in the early 1980s:

Followers of Christ Church

Minsters through the years from the early days’ history:

Mr. Burton – baptized Mr. Brewer

Mr. Brewer – baptized Mr. McDonald

Mr. McDonald – baptized Mr. Marion Reece

Mr. Marion Reece – Baptized Mr. Tommie Morris

Mr. Marion Reece – Baptized John Morris

Mr. Tommie Morris – baptized W.A. Morris

Mr. Tommie Morris – baptized Marion Morris

Church was built on John Morris’ land in 1946 where he had homesteaded 60x23 feet – later more square feet was added on. John Morris pleased, after long discussion that one day he drove by W.A. Morris and Jon and Duane had hauled the first loads of sand and makings for foundation.

When John Morris was asked what we’d call church after it was built, he replied, “it’s Church in Wildwood for Followers of Christ.

Marion Reece married Lydia Morris.

W.A. Morris and Marion Morris were John Morris’s sons.

Prior to 1940 – George Long and George Oakley were ministers. The elders were Elliott and Reed.

Charlie Smith married Sally Morris and moved away from the church to the northwest. He ordained White and Baldwin.

The split up the Ringwood, Oklahoma church came in 1940 on the third Sunday meeting. George Long and George Oakley didn’t agree about fornication and certain teachings. Therefore, John Morris told them that he would continue to have church on the fourth Sunday meeting at a school near where he lived until 1946 when the building was built on his land.

John Morris and his son Marion Morris ordained Ed Long, John’s nephew. Elders W.A. Morris, his son, Cecil Morris Senior.

After John Morris passed away, Marion Morris and W.A. Morris, and Cecil Morris senior carried on as church elders. After the elder Jack Watkins passed away, they ordained elders Jim Wallace, Ted Nakvinda, and Gary Wallace.

Men who spoke in tongues in the past included: George Oakley, Charlie Smith, Will Nichols, Jim Hayes, Monroe Testamen, and Alva Brown.

This was verified by W.A. Morris and submitted by his niece, Joyce Morris.

 

Sarah: Mother of Nations

In Hebrew, the name Sarah means “mother of nations.” Sarah was the wife of Abraham. She was ninety years old when she gave birth to Isaac. Isaac married Rebekah who was barren. Isaac prayed for his wife to conceive and she did (Gen 25:21). Rebekah, as promised, gave birth to twin boys: Jacob and Esau.

The mother of Samson was also a barren woman. She did not pray for a child but was sent a divine messenger to tell her she would have a son – and that his strength would be dependent on his uncut hair. Later, Hannah, unable to become pregnant, prayed for a son and God answered her prayers with Samuel.

Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary, was elderly – long past menopause – and did not expect to become pregnant. But she did, and gave birth to John the Baptist. While Elizabeth was still pregnant with John, Mary became pregnant with Jesus – the most famous miracle birth of all time.

What these stories have in common are that they were all women who became pregnant with divine intervention. Sarah and Elizabeth were both very old women. Each of the women gave birth to sons who grew up to serve critical roles for God and His people.

I believe in miracles. I believe each of these biblical tales is true. I believe God can do anything.

In the Followers, there were a few women who believed themselves pregnant and were not. They may or may not have taken home pregnancy tests. I do not know. I never thought that one of these tests would be controversial, but perhaps some in the group think the use of these are against their religion (or maybe ignore the negative results when their intuition tells them otherwise). In each of the cases, the women were later found to have been mistaken.

I remember a few people in the group – older folks who had physical deformities. One elderly woman had a huge tumor that made her look pregnant with twins. She had borne that tumor for decades, since she was a woman of childbearing years. Her husband became frustrated with her for refusing to seek medical intervention and have the tumor removed. He left the group and divorced her. But she remained in the group until her death.

Years later, and in recent FOC history, this very woman’s daughter who was in her seventies, believed herself to be pregnant. The church midwives examined her and agreed that she was expecting. If you look at such pregnancies in the context of biblical miracles, it is not such a stretch to come to the conclusion that this woman was pregnant with a male child who would have a significant role in this group.

Many folks agreed that this woman was pregnant with a son who would grow up to become the next FOC leader and preacher. But, there were skeptics who did not buy the story. The time came when it was clear that she was not, in fact, pregnant. And this fact caused strife within the group. Those who had believed in the miracle child blamed the skeptics for their doubt, claiming that their lack of faith had caused God to withdraw this child.

She Shunned the Wrong Sister

My sister Karin left church when I was thirteen. She was sent to live with my dad’s sister in California. The reasons were not explained, but I figured it out by snooping and eavesdropping. Like so much of our lives in the Followers of Christ, this event was controversial and used against us.

At thirteen years old, I had girls at church throw my sister’s life and choices in my face. One girl, whose dad had admitted to multiple extramarital affairs, informed me that her parents didn’t want her to be my friend because of my sister.

When I was seventeen I worked at the Oregon City Fred Meyer. Not a lot of Followers shopped in the store for groceries because we were supposed to buy our food at the W-B Food Mart, which was owned and run by Follower men.

But one day I saw a woman from church. She had been one of my sister’s best friends. I called out to her. For the sake of privacy, I will call her Danielle, but that is not her real name.

“Hi Danielle,” I called out to her as she walked by.

But she didn’t seem to hear me.

“Danielle,” I called louder this time. But she kept going.

I called her name several times and she never turned her head to look. I assumed she had really terrible hearing and went on with my life.

But a few weeks later, my sister-in-law told me that Danielle had heard me and had shunned me because she believed I was Karin. Yeah, Karin and I did look a lot alike and our voices are so identical that I can fool her children and my dad into thinking I’m her on the phone. But, seriously, a nod or simple hello would’ve been so simple. This woman really had to have a lot of self-control to act like someone calling her name was invisible.

That spring Danielle was a softball coach for one of our church’s women’s softball teams. And guess what? She picked me to be on her team. It was her way of making up for the mistaken shunning. I hated being on Danielle’s softball team. Looking back, I wish I would’ve just said that I didn’t want to play that year after all.