When you are no longer welcome at your parent’s house because you chose to leave 'the church'

 

There has been a lot of discussion on this blog over the years about various Churches of God who actively destroy families due to their arcane and divisive doctrinal/church teachings. From Dave Pack's cult breaking up marriages to Gerald Flurry's cult which prohibits members from speaking to children and/or parents who are no longer church members. The list of abuses has been long and at times shocking in how unchristian they all are.

Here is a letter from a person who has dealt with this in his family's life. 

A post recently appeared here about what it means to be persecuted, and one of the comments that it provoked hit particularly close to home. The commentator wrote: "What does it mean to be persecuted? I will tell you what it means .... It means that you are no longer welcome at your parent’s house because you chose to leave ‘the church’. It means that your children never met their grandparents because you are an outcast (because you left ‘the true faith’). It means that you, your husband and your children are told that you are ‘evil’, ‘satanic’ and ‘lost’." Unfortunately, this is not an uncommon experience among those who have left one of the Armstrong Churches of God.

And, like many others, I have personally experienced some of this rejection and isolation described in this person's comments. After leaving the Worldwide Church of God, all of my former friendships and associations within that organization ended abruptly. Even worse, the only way "back" was to conform to the expectations of the corporation/organization. Without my complete submission, it was made clear to me that reconciliation was impossible. All of those relationships were contingent upon my unqualified acceptance of the party line.

Later, when I left the “fill-in-the-blank” Armstrong Church of God, the same thing happened - only it was even worse this time, because family members were also involved. My dad was a minister in that organization, and he was friends with one of the leaders of the group. Even worse, that leader/friend was a hardliner in the tradition of the old Worldwide Church. Also, my brother (along with one of his children's family) joined the church and adopted and fully endorsed that leader's theology and political views.

However, unlike my earlier experience, this time the death of the relationships wasn't immediate and complete. Instead, the relationships deteriorated over time. Eventually, religious and political topics were declared to be off limits in my interactions with family members - they didn't want to hear anything that contradicted their views. Contact and conversations became less frequent and confined to the weather, home repairs and the health status of family members.

In fairness, I don't want to give the impression that this was an entirely one-sided affair. Over time, I began to resent the restrictions on our relationships. I also began to resent my dad's frequent traveling on behalf of the church, and his unwillingness to visit me. And how does one deal with the sincere desire to "fix" things - to make things better? What do you do when the other side regards you as ignorant, deceived, apostate, wicked or some combination of all of the above? Do you surrender your identity and beliefs to rekindle the closeness and affection that you once shared with them?

In thinking about these things (and I've had many years now to think about them), I'm reminded of the principles behind successfully navigating relationship difficulties (marriage counseling, conflict resolution, etc.). Among many, the foundational principles governing such endeavors are that both sides acknowledge that there is a problem and have the desire to "fix" things. And how does that work when one side believes that compromise or accommodation might endanger their prospects for eternal life in God's Kingdom? How does that work when one side believes that the other is intent on destroying the church or the republic they cherish?

I must admit - at times, the situation seems hopeless and beyond repair. But then I'm reminded of something that alcoholics and addicts have known about for a long time: The Serenity Prayer. You know - the one that goes something like this: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.