What about Judas????

Last year during the week before Easter the question kept coming up, “What about Judas?” That, and the “immersive experiences” that include a mirror with “Behold the betrayer!” as though we should identify with Judas.

I’ll change the questions for myself this year. Instead of “What happened to Judas?” let’s ask what happened to the betrayed. Not just to Jesus, but to the disciples. Jesus knew what was coming, but the disciples didn’t. They felt lost, scared, confused, and angry. So much that had been wonderful in their lives was seemingly upended with a single kiss. Judas was their friend, someone they’d spent a lot of time with and cared about, maybe even respected.

Maybe some argued it couldn’t have been Judas. It was dark. It must have been someone else they saw. And maybe this upset others who knew who they saw, even in the dark. Maybe some blamed themselves. They recalled something Judas had said or done… they should have known. They should have warned Jesus. They should have done something. Anything. And then there was Peter. He did something. He drew his sword. But it was too late, and he was rebuked, and then he denied Jesus on top of everything else.

I’m sure the disciples felt to one degree or another that they were betrayers, but not because they identified with Judas. No, if they felt like betrayers, for the most part that was because they’d trusted Judas. Except Peter, who had even more to deal with. They couldn’t see through what was happening. They felt betrayed, and they may well have wrongly blamed themselves for a large part of the betrayal. They were scattered. Sunday didn’t bring them all back together, either. We like to think of resurrection as the final victory, but it would take a week or two or three for all the disciples to realize the story wasn’t finished.

I sat around a table tonight with strangers. There were prayer requests… and so many were for hope. Mine too. Last year this time was filled with so much joy and hope. This year is so different than I thought it would be, and I grieve what should have been and could have been. And yet Sunday’s coming, and even that’s not the end of the story. Just the beginning.

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Deprogramming: documentaries and movies about cults and fundamentalist Christian subculture

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on April 16, 2015. 

Some people asked us what life was like after we left when I posted the UnBoxing Project series, how we handled leaving the sects of fundamentalist Christianity we were raised in.

My friends and I went through a period of deprogramming, which is still ongoing. We’d been told what to think our whole lives, what is good and what is evil, and then we found we’d been lied to.

Cults teach the people who want to leave the group that:

1) you’re the only one questioning

2) this is somehow your fault, because everyone else is compliant and does what they’re told.

This is how they maintain control, through isolation.

My best friend in college, Cynthia Barram, found some documentaries about cults and Christian fundamentalism that demonstrated nationwide trends and helped our little group of ex-fundamentalist homeschoolers realize that we weren’t alone in deconstructing from toxic religion.

Sons of Perdition (2010)

This documentary is about the teenage boys who get kicked out and the girls and women who leave Warren Jeff’s FLDS cult on the southern Utah / Arizona border.

Although our experiences in the Independent Fundamental Baptist or United Pentecostal Churches were different than the Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints since our churches didn’t practice polygamy and didn’t have a prophet, we shared many similarities with their deconstruction process. Like the ex-FLDS young adults, we grieved the loss of family members who shunned us, struggled to find a sense of purpose when we no longer felt like we had been “chosen” to fulfill a divine mission like the cult taught us, and worked through unhealthy ways of coping with these losses and found a better way to live.

The “Sons of Perdition” struggled to support themselves and enroll in school. The daughters cut their hair for the first time and put on pants. We could identify with their stories because of our own experiences in fundamentalist cults.

Daddy, I Do (2010) and Cutting Edge: The Virgin Daughters (2008 TV Show)

These documentaries are about purity culture and the father-daughter virginity ball hosted at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs every year.

Daddy, I Do features a variety of perspectives: fraternity boys, churchgoing parents raising kids, abstinence-only program leaders, and progressive Christians like blogger Matthew Paul Turner. It addresses the problematic nature of a daughter promising her virginity to her father until marriage.

The Virgin Daughters focuses specifically on Colorado Springs and the father-daughter ball, interviewing the various families who attend and showing the pledge the fathers sign to protect their daughters’ chastity.

Both of these documentaries feature fundamentalist Christian parents who admit they actually were not virgins at marriage, but they want their children to be.

Jesus Camp (2006)

This documentary is mostly about an evangelical Pentecostal-style church camp gone wrong.

The charismatic camp director says in the opening scenes that America’s only hope for spiritual revival is through the hearts of malleable children. So she and the other leaders proceed to brainwash them and manipulate their emotions, telling the children that they are engaged in warfare for the good of the nation.

The film also shows the group of campers visiting New Life Church in Colorado Springs and meeting the pastor at the time, Ted Haggard.

Ted Haggard, who founded New Life Church in the mid 80s, was known for “waging spiritual war” in Colorado Springs and encouraging his church members to “anoint” streets and intersections with cooking oil, according to a Harpers’ Magazine article called “Soldiers of Christ” by Jeff Sharlet published in May 2005.

The neighbor family who lived across the street from my parents in Colorado Springs had attended New Life Church for years when we moved there. The husband and wife both worked at Focus on the Family while we were neighbors, and the wife often took a spray bottle of cooking oil on her walks around the neighborhood that she would use to “anoint” neighbor’s driveways if she felt that she sensed a demonic presence, in accordance with Haggard’s teachings.

Haggard resigned as senior pastor of New Life Church in the fall of 2006 after allegations surfaced that he used methamphetamine and had sex with a male escort in Denver. He and his wife left the city for several years, but he moved back to start another church in Colorado Springs in 2010, where he has been accused again of illegal drug use and inappropriate behavior with young men, according to a July 2022 article by the Colorado Springs Gazette.

Jesus Camp was a harrowing portrayal of spiritual abuse, but I needed this film to process what happened to me and my high school youth group in one of my fundamentalist churches, to realize how we had been radicalized for the culture wars.

God Loves Uganda (2013) 

This documentary is about non-denominational evangelical churches like the International House of Prayer (IHOP) group (which has also been called a cult) that has emerged over the last 20 years increasing missionary efforts, reacting against established denominations leaning away from traditional theology and missions.

They look at what happens on the other side, at the financial impact of this church planting and aid on the countries receiving these missionaries.

The documentary makers point out that people end up depending on the monetary support from the missionaries and churches in Western countries, and the evangelical churches sending missionaries use their influence to pass laws, like the one in Uganda that advocated the death penalty for LGBTQ people.

Basically, this film demonstrates missionary work gone bad.

Waiting for Armageddon (2009)

I’ve given up on rapture theology. The whole philosophy is based on a handful of verses and wasn’t widely accepted until television preachers in the 1960s started it during the Cold War era. If Jesus actually comes back like that, great, but if not, I’m okay with that, too.

In the film, a group of somewhat clueless Texans tromp around the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, and their pastor threatens to cause an international incident by yelling that this is where Jesus will come back until security asks them to stop, reminding them that at least three different religions consider the Temple Mount to be sacred and each religion believes very different things about it.

Then they play the Star Spangled Banner while riding in a boat over the Sea of Galilee. Gotta love that American Christian exceptionalism. Lovely.

Jewish leaders who better understand the intricacies of the religious history of the area are also interviewed in the film, and it also covers the annual Tribulation Conference in Dallas, Texas.

On the lighter side, we also watched comedy movies and TV shows critiquing how we grew up.

Saved! (2004)

In this movie, a high school girl decides to “save” her boyfriend from being gay by giving him her virginity. Then she gets pregnant.

And did I mention she’s in a Christian high school?

Cue goth punk chick and dude in a wheelchair (the other “outcasts”) coming to her rescue.

We laughed so much watching this film, because many of the ridiculous plot lines would actually happen in evangelical and fundamentalist subculture.

The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (2015)

In this Netflix-only series, Kimmy escapes an apocalyptic cult’s bunker after 15 years of captivity and reinvents herself and her identity in New York City.

The episode titles are hilarious from the obvious “Kimmy Goes Outside!” or “Kimmy Gets a Job!” and “Kimmy Goes on a Date!” to the more mundane, like “Kimmy Makes Waffles!”

The show received a positive review from an actual survivor of an apocalyptic cult.

I watched the first season during spring break of my last year of college and loved it, but I couldn’t watch too many episodes in one sitting because some of the comedy was too real.

When I first moved out, I was so very, very much like Kimmy, right down to her bottomless optimism. Laughing at her is like laughing at myself, which is both healing and painful.

Leaving is hard.

But for those of us who seek freedom, it’s worth it.

And we’re not alone, in this mess of deprogramming and making sense of what our lives were like and what our futures will be.

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The UnBoxing Project: How you can help (Eleanor’s thoughts)

Editorial Note: The following is reprinted with permission from Eleanor Skelton’s blog. It was originally published on April 5, 2015 as part of a series. 

Continued from How You Can Help (Cynthia’s Thoughts)

When we started helping people move out, we learned that getting out and finding freedom is messy, and everyone’s situation is different.

When someone contacted us for help, we said that they went “active.” It’s like being on call for an emergency move 24/7.

They’ll tell us the situation is deteriorating, but we don’t know it’s going to happen until they call us, because we leave the choice up to them.

In summer 2013, when Homeschoolers Anonymous posted Eve Ettinger’s Call For Help: A Quiverfull / Patriarchy Rescue, I wrote in an email to our network: “I think she is the first of many.”

The backlash is one of the most difficult things we all faced in leaving our cult-like churches and controlling families.

One morning in my apartment, right after Racquel and Ashley left their church, the First United Pentecostal Church of Colorado Springs, Racquel’s phone rang. She stepped into the next room for a private discussion.

She came back out looking troubled.

Ashley asked what was wrong, and Racquel said Sister H. from Louisiana just called.

Racquel started crying.

“Sister H. told me that the pastor may be wrong, our parents may be wrong, but not to give up on the Pentecostal church. But I just can’t do it. I can’t.”

“Did anything like this happen to you when you left, Eleanor?” she asked.

Yes. Yes, it did.

One of the pastors and his wife at our old church in the Dallas Metroplex, Rockwall Bible Church, called me and tried to convince me to attend Bob Jones University.

They agreed with my pastor at Grace Bible Church in Colorado Springs and they said the only way to honor my parents was to do this one thing, to obey them.

My friend Anna G. called me a few weeks after I moved out. She said she’d gone back to the church. The assistant pastor and his wife asked her to step into their office after an evening church service and asked her about two of my Facebook posts that she’d liked and commented on.

One of my Facebook posts that she had liked was lyrics from a song called “Keep Your Eyes Open” by the contemporary Christian band NeedtoBreathe (and the assistant pastor and his wife believed all syncopated music was of Satan).

The other Facebook post was a link to a Tumblr blog called Hey Christian Girl, a collection of memes with cheesy, silly pick-up lines with Biblical allusions. They said didn’t see the humor, and they thought it was sacrilegious.

Anna also said the pastor and his wife asked her if she agreed with me moving out, if she’d aided me in leaving the cult. They told her that they didn’t want her to influence their children to move out without their approval.

I caught my breath. I could see it now.

They can’t stand to lose one of their own, because that’s losing a soldier to the culture wars. You take one step back from fundamentalist Christianity and now you’re one of the outsiders, one of the “lost” that they evangelize. And they need your soul.

So when I hugged Racquel while she sobbed, I could say, “Yes, this happened to me, too.”

This is why leaving these churches and these homes is leaving a cult. And this is what it’s like to walk beside abuse survivors in seeking freedom.

I’ve waited through months of watching and making preparations before helping someone leave. I keep an emergency cellphone with an unlisted number in case a controlling parent blocks someone from calling my regular cellphone. I’ve carried pepper spray, a stun gun and a small knife, all legal to carry on my college campus, so I can protect myself and those who ask for our help if a situation turns confrontational and violent.

Our network of friends discusses alternate scenarios, backup plans with people who are wanting to leave. We plan for the worst while hoping that one day this won’t be necessary.

Here’s we learned about helping people move out:

Take the essentials, but stay safe.

TESSA, a non-profit in Colorado Springs that offers advice and support to spousal domestic abuse survivors, has a checklist of what to take with you when you leave that we found helpful.

  • Identifying documents
  • Clothes to last a week
  • Cash and bank information
  • Keys to car and work
  • Medications
  • Important paperwork and records
  • Personal items like photographs and jewelry

When Ashley moved out, five of us showed up because we knew her father was armed, he’d destroyed the inside of the car and the apartment, and we didn’t know when he’d return. 

Later, I learned anyone who feels threatened can request police protection while moving their possessions.

Sometimes we left something behind we valued.

I couldn’t take my heirloom violin from the 1890s or one of our family dogs I’d bonded with. Ashley left her dog Sasha and her bed because we couldn’t fit it in the van, and Racquel sold her horse when later she couldn’t pay board and her own living expenses.

We lost diaries, mementos, and valuables.

We decided our freedom was worth losing those things or that lifestyle.

We realized the important thing was keeping ourselves safe and learning how to heal.

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Finding home

Two months ago I started attending a church… after around 5-6 years of swearing I was done, and after one infamously sarcastic Google search for what I thought was the impossible… a church that accepted even doubters and unbelievers.

For two months I’ve watched people in this church – leaders and laity – being authentic, accepting and loving. They’ve invited me to sit with them and welcomed me to their classes, groups, and discussions. They’ve never once pressured me for information about myself or pushed for any commitment from me. They’ve listened, they’ve shared, and they’ve loved.

When I first started going, I’d physically shake and my blood pressure would go hypertensive, which is very unusual for me. But I was actually IN a church building, and that was a terrifyingly dangerous place in my mind. And this was a different kind of church than I was used to (thank goodness!), and the unfamiliarity was also scary. But there was something incredible happening and I knew it, and I knew that this church was part of it.

I asked God at the time to please provide answers to some of my many questions without me having to ask. That prayer has been answered many times over, and is still being answered in amazing ways but I’m not afraid to ask questions now. This is a safe place to wonder, to question, to ask. Even to doubt or differ.

The last two months have brought healing to 22 years of deep wounds, and a restoration I didn’t dare dream of.

I’m so incredibly happy that I’m joining this church tomorrow. No, membership there changes nothing. There’s no extra perk to joining, unless you count getting a name tag, and no one will expect anything more or less of me. Nothing changes because they will continue to do just what they’ve already done and be what they’ve already been. But it means a lot to me, and it’s my opportunity to say, “me, too.”

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An Introduction To Elephants

The following was written by former United Pentecostal Church minister Jon Eckenrod, and used with his permission. Jon held license for about twenty years and left the organization in 2007.

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I also want to say a word to my peers and leaders still in the ministry in the United Pentecostal Church, International. For all our efforts to “preach Jesus,” and point people to the cross, in practice we accomplished the opposite. Every time we shamed someone for not measuring up, we turned them from Jesus—not to Him. We turned them to their own lack of ability to overcome, and then to our leadership to help them become better Christians—a subject about which we were ill-equipped to offer counsel. Too many of our congregants just gave up trying and decided to either “look the part,” thereby becoming hypocrites, or leave church altogether. Of course, we attributed this to a “lack of will power” or discipline. In truth, we all know that none of us was able to live as “holy” and “pure” as we preached. Consequently, in practice, we produced an atmosphere conducive to secret sin and hypocrisy. And much to our dismay, our congregants catch on quickly. They follow the leader.

The answer for all of us lies in the grace of God, not in our efforts to become more spiritual. Pastors, it is my prayer for you and your congregations that you discover and experience the grace that I have found. What a relief to find rest, not in my ability to “pray through,” but in the arms of Jesus. – Jon Eckenrod

The proverbial elephant in the room is the issue that is plain to everyone, but about which no one wants to talk. Why don’t we like to talk about the elephants? By their nature elephants are big. To acknowledge them is to begin to deal with a problem that is uncomfortable. Usually the issue is difficult and has no easy solution. So, we ignore it, or at least we try. But, because of their size, elephants are hard to ignore. The longer we turn a blind eye to them, the more difficult they are to address. Some ‘elephants’ may start out relatively small, but over time, if not dealt with, they become enormous. And the cost of dealing with them increases with each passing day.

Dr. Joseph Umidi, one of my professors at Regent University School of Divinity, told our class that when a leader does not address elephants in the room, followers begin to “collect injustices.” In other words, they begin to take note of every mistake the leader makes. They collect them, and soon, all they can see are these injustices when they look at the leader. Dr. Umidi likened it to looking at your environment through a clear pen (one of those old-fashioned Bic pens). When the first injustice occurs, the pen appears, and it is in your line of sight (perhaps at arm’s length), but you can see everything around it clearly. As more injustices are collected, the pen moves closer to your eyes, so that it fills more of your field of vision. Soon, the pen is right next to your eyes, and you can only see everything else through the pen. This is very dangerous and very toxic. That is why it is so important for leaders to be willing to address the elephants in the room—no matter how unpleasant they are.

You don’t need a room full of people in order for elephants to appear. You can create them in your private life, which is what I did. When I saw problems and chose to ignore them, or had doubts and questions, and deferred addressing them until a later date—voila! Elephants were created. When I stopped being afraid of the truth, I began to see the elephants clearly.

Life is so very uncomfortable in a room full of elephants. In some respects, I feel like I know what an elephant stampede is like. It is overwhelming. You feel like there is nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And in truth, there isn’t. And it is very painful to endure. The elephants come straight at you, demanding to be acknowledged and dealt with. And when the stampede is over—when you have looked each elephant squarely in the eye and addressed the problems that they posed—you wonder what just happened. You try to get your bearings again. I am still in the process of doing that, but now Jesus Christ is at the center of it all. And that makes all the difference.

The journey has not been easy. It has been painful at times, and my family members have been the ‘beneficiaries’ of much of that pain. But, by God’s grace, I was forced to address my elephants. I wouldn’t want it any other way (unless I could go back and stop the elephants from being created in the first place). Why was I afraid to acknowledge the truth? Why did I refuse to look objectively at the group with which I had been associated for so many years? For any one of us, the main reason is fear. Quite frankly, I was afraid that what I believed might be wrong. I was afraid of what that would mean. What would it cost me if I discovered that I was in error—that my organization was in error? What would that mean for my future, and for the future of my family? If I found that we had been wrong about our interpretation of scripture, could I stay in the organization? We were on a promising career track, and I had no desire to jeopardize that. And I certainly didn’t want to experience the ostracism that I had witnessed so many others who had left the organization experience. I didn’t want that for my family. There were too many questions with too many very troubling and painful answers. It was easier to remain ‘willfully ignorant’ than to do anything to rock the boat.

It is a sad commentary on any organization when a person must weigh whether to leave or not based on a fear of ostracism, rather than on truth and what is best for the individual or family. When this is the case, it indicates a major problem with the system. If it is fear that keeps us from looking objectively at our groups, we need to ask ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” Would Jesus cause us to be afraid to leave and go somewhere else? Would he make us fear to ask difficult questions? When we did have questions, would he shame us for doubting? Would he make us feel like we were the ones with the problem just because we questioned him? Finally, if Jesus would not make us afraid to ask the tough questions, then we need to ask another question: just what kind of people are running our organizations? Are we afraid to answer that? What an awful thing fear is. Truly, “fear hath torment,” (1 John 4:18, KJV).

There were times when I would address some of these nagging doubts and questions, but it was always within the context of believing that what I was taught was true. So I had to figure out why my doubts were unfounded. Or I had to figure out a way to prove why another’s objections to my beliefs were invalid. I never addressed these things objectively. That is the way most ministers and congregants addressed these questions. We were right. We just had to figure out why others were wrong. This approach is wrong-headed, and it only serves to make our elephants grow.

My intent in writing this is to expose my own shortcomings—my own humanness, if you will. I want to demonstrate how I ignored signs that I was heading in the wrong direction. I suppressed feelings. I minimized and rationalized away warnings that should have made me stop and reconsider. We all have a propensity to ignore the obvious when it doesn’t fit the context within which we live. We turn a blind eye to information when it could cause our world to crumble down around us. This is really the basis of ‘group think.’ We slowly lose the ability to look at our own group objectively. To a degree, breeding elephants is a result of self-preservation. It helps us survive and even thrive within our groups.

I don’t want people to become critical about everything in life. Life is too short. But I also don’t want people to be afraid to think critically about those things that don’t add up. I want to encourage anyone in any circumstance to not ignore those gut feelings, those signs that cause inner-turmoil. We need to be free to think objectively about ourselves and the groups of which we are a part. It is OK to examine our belief systems, and those of our churches, our leaders, or our organizations.

In doing this, there is one thing that I cannot emphasize enough: we can not be afraid to allow objective observers to look at our lives and speak to us about what they see. It is difficult to do. We are prideful, and we know intuitively that they wouldn’t understand if we tried to explain everything about our groups. But we must make the effort to find someone who doesn’t have some ulterior motive of trying to get us to join their group, and who is good at just listening—someone who won’t judge us, but who will be brutally honest with us. Sadly, for many who are involved in groups like the one I was a part of, we don’t feel like we have someone on the outside that we can trust. We have been conditioned to believe that people on the outside have suspect motives or that they are deceived—so they can’t help. But, if at all possible, we all need to find someone who can look at us objectively, which disqualifies those within our groups. I guess what I am trying to say is, we need to ‘open our eyes!’ It is difficult for elephants to breed when our eyes are open and others are watching with us.

At this point, I must point out that I don’t have it all figured out. As a matter of fact, I still have a lot of questions about a lot of issues. But I am not ignoring them, and I’m not afraid to address them. Also, I do not in any way claim to be a scholar or an expert in theology. I just want to share what I do know, and what I have learned. I hope this helps you learn as well.


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