Did I Grow Up in a Cult?–Or Not
I need your help to find out the truth
Whoever invented the saying ‘hindsight is 20/20’ couldn’t have been more right.
When you are in a cult, you don’t know it’s a cult. Everything that’s demanded of you would seem normal to you, whether it’s unwavering loyalty or total separation from your family members. One day, you’d stop, think, and come to the realization that you’ve been asked to do things that only cults ask their members to do. When this day comes, it’d be too late because you already left the cult — it’s in the past.
This was my experience. I was in a cult — or maybe not. I can’t decide if it was a cult or not. This is a mystery I’m hoping you can help me solve. I’ll tell you my story and at the end, you’d tell me if I was in a cult — as long as you promise not to judge. Deal?
It all began at birth.
I was born into a very religious family. I don’t want to give out a lot of identifying details, but I can tell you this much. When I was born, my father was a pastor of the church — the priest if you like, and my mom was a senior member of the church. She was as involved in running the church as he was.
We — the kids — would go to church 3 times a week. Mom and Dad would go 5 or 6 times every week, including on Sundays. Going to church wasn’t the problem. Going 5 times every week is a lot, but that wasn’t even the problem either. The problem was the rules, regulations, and doctrines that we were taught and had to follow.
Going to church regularly was the easy part, but let’s talk about the doctrine. Like a lot of Pentecostal churches, my church had very strict instructions about what we could wear and what we couldn’t. These rules were usually backed with bible verses that were taken out of context but sounded good enough to justify whatever the rule was. The role of the bible verse was to douse questions or doubts that arose in the minds of the members. After all, who dares question the Bible? — the word of God itself.
In my church, we weren’t allowed to wear jeans. Men couldn’t wear wristwatches with a metal strap. Women weren’t allowed to wear any jewellery or makeup, and of course, women couldn’t wear trousers either. Our hair had to be kept natural, and that meant that women couldn’t wear wigs or braid their hair with an artificial extension — you know how much African women love their wigs and extensions. The prohibition on trousers for women was justified using Deuteronomy 22:5.
The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God.
To understand how much this verse was taken out of context, you just have to read the whole chapter.
The authority of the church and our leaders was not to be questioned — you dare not. When the pastor said something, it was taken as the word of God. The pastor is a vessel through which God speaks and communicates with his children. In other words, the pastor is just a mouthpiece for God. Nobody questions God. Because we saw the pastor as the vessel of God, we had to obey him — only men were allowed to be pastors — and give him the full respect we would give God in the flesh.
One December, Mom, and Dad had planned to take us to our hometown for Christmas. We hadn’t visited our hometown in many years, but this year was going to be special. We started planning this particular visit early in the year — the first half of the year. December arrived and as the time to travel fast approached, Dad went to his senior pastor to inform him that we’d be spending Christmas with our extended family back in our hometown. The pastor looked Dad in the face and said “No, you won’t”. “How will you go home to spend Christmas when there is a lot to do in the house of God?”. I can’t remember the rest of the conversation, but that was how Christmas was cancelled for us that year. The pastor didn’t give his permission, and Dad didn’t even think of disobeying him because that comes with a lot of ugly consequences.
Disobedience to your pastor or the church authorities was punished accordingly, including disobeying any of the church doctrines. When someone went astray, they were told to ‘go and pray’. This is code for relieving the person of any positions they hold or at least demoting them, and then freezing them on ice. Other church members would be informed of your plight, and they would treat you accordingly. The purpose of the whole exercise is to isolate you and humiliate you. In this community, a lot of people derived their sense of purpose from the activities they did in church to serve God and the community. Once you’ve been stripped of that sense of purpose, you would be left feeling empty, a feeling which is made worse by the members avoiding you. I have just the example to explain this.
My friend’s mom who was also a member of the church was suspended — asked to go and pray. Before her suspension, she was a top leader in her local district and was engaged in a lot of church activities. After she was suspended, she went into depression. She had been so busy with church activities that she spent half of her waking hours in church. She derived her sense of purpose from her activities in the church. Helping all the people in church especially the women gave her life meaning. When these things were taken away suddenly, her world came crashing down. She didn’t have anything to look forward to every day. What killed her the most, however, was the treatment. The people she had worked for and cared for as a leader suddenly started giving her cold shoulders and treating her like an outcast. They ignored her, making her feel like she had committed the worst crime on earth, It hurt her deeply.
There was also a culture of fear — the atmosphere was heavy with it. Although we were taught that God is love, we could as well have been taught that God is fear because that was our reality. I can think of a fitting bible verse. It’s from Hebrews 12:29.
For our God is a consuming Fire
This verse sums up my experience of the culture in church. People were afraid of everything. We were afraid of going against the church rules, we were afraid of offending God, we were afraid of disobeying the pastor, and we were afraid that someone was listening or watching our actions. Looking back, I struggle to remember any moment that was devoid of fear. Almost every day at service, the pastor would remind us of hell and eternal torment.
In the book of Acts, Ananias and his partner Sapphira were killed for lying to the Holy Spirit. In Numbers, the earth opened up and swallowed Korah and his household. Again in Acts, Herod was eaten by worms and died when tried to take the glory of God. There are enough scary bible stories and verses to last every day for a decade, and our pastors knew how to use these passages well.
Aside from keeping us in check, this culture of fear stifled any opposition to the leadership of the church. We were encouraged to get secular education, but we weren’t allowed to think critically in church. You were forced to accept the interpretation of the Bible given by your pastor, even if your pastor is a high school dropout and you are a college professor of theology — yes, for real. Even if the pastor’s interpretation didn’t make sense, you couldn’t oppose it because like I said, the pastor is God’s mouthpiece. Remember?
Many years after leaving my church, I tried to find myself and understand what kind of community I was in. Some writers have described the signs to look out for, the telltale signs to know if you are in a cult or a religious community. I’ve spent some time poring through these telltale signs, but I still can’t find the smoking gun. Maybe I’m biased. Maybe the reason I can’t find the smoking gun is because I grew up and spent all my childhood in this religious community — I left when I was 19. This is why I need your help to tell me if I was in a cult or just a weird religious sect. I would like to know what you think.