| Author |
Message |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 2 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 12.45.124.242
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 2:24 pm: |
|
What good is grace If I can’t sin And join again What I once quit? I am going back on my word and putting up this post. I am starting a new thread, because I have an idea and I wonder if others might find it interesting or helpful. A little less than a year ago I made an abortive attempt to join the conversation here in the GGWO area of Factnet. I withdrew because I did not wish to be associated with what were for me fruitless doctrinal debates. I pass no judgment, I just didn’t want in on that – still don’t. Whether I was petulant I’ll leave to others to decide. Since then I have been lurking from time to time, and I have seen this discussion board expand and develop in some very interesting ways. In the first place, while doctrinal disputation continues, as well it may, it no longer seems to be dominant. Additionally, a number of threads have appeared that have little or nothing to do with TBS/GGWO, but pursue matters of interest nonetheless. Also, multiple long threads seeking and sharing information on the status and whereabouts of old acquaintances or friends have appeared. But of greatest interest to me throughout have been the bits of story or narrative that have been posted. For me stories, our own stories, hold the promise of healing, wholeness, transformation and growth. When we tell our stories we locate ourselves as characters within a plot. Both the plot and the way we see ourselves in the story are meaningful. The story of my journey toward healing and wholeness describes a past and anticipates a future. How I see myself in the story may disclose how I wish to be or wish I weren’t. Either way, the story is the way I struggle toward making meaning of episodes of my experience or even of my life as a whole. For myself, my experiences during the time I was involved in TBS and what happened to me as I broke free (even those words are so evocative for me!) have in some important ways shaped my understanding of my life both before and since. Telling the story helps me to see myself as I was, as I am, and as I hope to be. One of the very powerful insights I have gained from reading some of the posts here on Factnet is that for many people the experience of being involved with TBS/GGWO has been fragmenting. I know that this is the case for me. In some ways the time I was deeply involved in TBS was “unreal time” and the experiences I had there have been difficult to integrate into the rest of my life. It has sometimes felt as if I spent 8 years on another planet. And yet, many of the friends I made during those 8 years have remained my dearest friends. But even with that said, I have had real difficulty maintaining a closeness with most of those friends. I feel like telling my story may well help me “make sense” of those years of experience and to integrate them into my earlier and later life. In essence I believe that sharing stories, crafting narratives about those, and subsequent years will help me make greater meaning of my life as a whole. I wonder if others feel something similar? Those of you who know or knew me at all will know that I am not particularly fond of exposing my inner self. I tend to be quite private and even a little reclusive. So this constitutes a considerable risk for me. So here is what I propose. Can we make this thread, and any continuations of it, a reasonably safe place to tell our stories? There are lots of other threads for debate and gossip and so forth. But I’d like invite those who wish to tell some of their stories here. The posts needn’t be long, long narratives, but people can always do as they wish. The wonderful thing about stories is that they can’t really be debated. A story is not right or wrong, it just is. I may omit some people or some facts, or get some sequences mixed up, and if so, then gentle reminders may be in order. It may be that what I leave out or mix up is as important as what I include and get straight. My story may be boring to you, and vice versa. Nobody has to read anything. But then again our stories may shed light upon each other’s since in some ways we are all connected by certain common places, times, people and phenomena. So I will start things off with a little bit of my own story. In about 1979 I was pastoring a small group of believers in Indiana, PA. I had moved there from Lenox in 1978 with my wife Jolie and my two young children, Joe and Kate. (I can’t remember just when, late summer I think). The ostensible reason for going to PA was to develop a “branch ministry” with some folks from the church I had started in Wilmington, MA and some folks in PA who had been listening to the “Telephone Time” radio program and supporting The Bible Speaks. The real reason for going was that I felt so oppressed and suffocated in Lenox. Many of my best friends were also going out with “ministry teams” to various places and I was not really interested in staying in Lenox without them. In Indiana, PA I had a great deal of time on my hands. The church group was small and aside from church services on Sunday and Bible studies, I didn’t have a lot of responsibilities. I decided that I would use the time I had to read, and my very fortunate choice was C.S. Lewis. I determined that I would read everything that he had written as a Christian. (His works on medieval English literature and most of his works on literary criticism were not of interest to me.) I often stayed up all night, drinking tea and reading till dawn. Lewis once wrote that a good book is never long enough and a good cup of tea is never deep enough. I quite agreed then and do now. I wonder what dear Jolie thought of that. She never said a critical word. Lewis was my doorway out of TBS. He did several very important things for me. First of all he taught me that Christianity is not inimical to critical thinking. Faith is not opposed to reason, but is in a creative partnership with it. Thinking is not threatening to God, nor is it a challenge to the Bible. Thinking is a gift as is faith. Lewis also taught me that imagination and creativity are part of the Imago Dei – the image of God in us. Fiction and myth may embody truth as well as (and often better than) proposition and history. Lewis sometimes referred to human beings who used their imaginations to embrace and express truth as “sub-creators.” Finally, Lewis taught me that words matter. He taught me to craft language so that unexpected combinations of words disclose nuances and subtleties of meaning. Sometime in late 1979 or early 1980 Gene Hollick, who was then heading up the Bible School, persuaded me to come back to Lenox to teach. I told him that the only way that I would do that is if I had an ironclad promise from CHS that I would be able to choose what courses I taught, what texts I employed and above all that I would have no interference in terms of content. If I could not teach with a clear conscience what I actually believed then I wanted no part of it. Gene told me he would discuss this with CHS and get back to me. A little while later he called to say that my conditions had been agreed to and I told him I would come back. What happened next will wait for now. Somebody else's turn. |
   
kpntreal (kpntreal) New member Username: kpntreal
Post Number: 16 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 216.183.184.253
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 2:49 pm: |
|
Don't leave me hangin her SQ, I wanna hear the rest of the story ! |
   
karen (karen) Intermediate Member Username: karen
Post Number: 175 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.128.118.166
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 3:30 pm: |
|
Following is an excerpt from a piece I wrote about my spiritual journey. Steve, I apologize if one section is disturbing to you. Unfortunately, it is an honest account of the facts. My life is moving at warp speed. It’s as if my momentary decision were like a balloon released to the sky, carried along by powerful and unseen currents. In September of 1980, my friend Sheila and I embark once more on a shared journey—this time to the Berkshires of Massachusetts, where there is a Bible college and the promise of a new and sanctified life. The campus is folded into 70-plus acres of rolling hills and breathtaking vistas in the heart of Lenox—a historic New England town. In stark contrast to the humble mission of the school, its neighbors in the community are symbols of wealth, privilege and worldly sophistication—Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony; the Berkshire Theater Festival; Cranwell Resort; Naumkeag Museum; Shakespeare & Co.; the Red Lion Inn; Blantyre Castle; and the Mount, the former home and gardens of Edith Wharton. During the summer and fall seasons, all of Berkshire County is teeming with tourists eager to share in the good life and divest themselves of their New York money. Sheila and I begin to divest ourselves as well—of our old lives and identities. We are welcomed by a tightly knit group of believers who are predominantly young, open-hearted, talented and deeply committed to God. There is always something going on—worship services, prayer meetings, community outreach, baseball games, talent shows, and conferences that bring together branch ministries from all over the United States and the world. Though membership in the organization numbers in the thousands, the campus has the feel of a small-town community where everyone knows one another. Most of the missionaries are graduates of the Bible college and have come up the ranks to occupy positions of authority. They are the heroes—the “sold-out” ones who have “laid down their lives for the sake of the gospel.” I am beguiled by their intelligence, energy and devotion. The bookstore sells photos of the ministry’s leader. I am disquieted by this. “Do people here worship a man?” I ask. “Of course not,” a young woman responds. “We know Pastor Stevens is only a man, but he has given his life to serve God, and he deserves our love and honor.” In truth, Pastor Stevens frightens me. His preaching encompasses both the grace of God and unleashed fury. He speaks with a vocabulary I don’t understand—phrases like “government of grace,” “cocatrice eggs,” and “delegated authority.” Throughout his messages, members of the congregation murmur “wows” and “amens.” After services, people escort him to the cafeteria for a “rap”—a smaller gathering at which he feels perfect liberty to speak against dissenters with veiled accusations and threats. Once finished speaking, Pastor Stevens is whisked away by members of his entourage to a waiting car. Everywhere I go, I am welcomed by friendly and interesting people who seem to have an insider’s knowledge of things beyond my grasp. I put aside my misgivings. I move into Lawrence Hall, a red brick building that is quite different from the elegant, 18th-century-style, clapboard structures that dominate the campus; it overlooks a man-made pond with a fountain. My room in the basement has painted cinder-block walls, high windows and three sets of bunk beds. I have five 20-something female roommates: Jeannie, a creative sprite from Cauldwell, NJ, who decorates our room with branches, Chinese lanterns and vintage clothing hung like artwork from the moldings; Laura, also from New Jersey, who backpacked alone through Eastern Europe before coming to Lenox and has an affinity for wearing work boots with Indian-print skirts; Helen, a friendly but insecure local girl; Judy, a fragile and spooky woman from Maine who perpetually wants the room darkened and quiet; and Colleen, a fast-talking girl from the Bronx who has bright-red lips and still wears high-waisted, bell-bottomed jeans. I sign up for classes in the Bible college and find a full-time job at the Avalon Center, a residential community for mentally retarded and emotionally disturbed children and adolescents. Both environments—Avalon and The Bible Speaks community—are like alternate realities, unimaginably different from my previous life. I wake up at 5 a.m. so I can make it into the shower before the rush—12 women vying for two stalls. My hair is waist-length and thick; it is no easy task to shampoo and rinse. This morning, someone calls to me from the other side of the curtain: “Hurry up in there; you are taking too long.” I murmur an apology and finish up as quickly as I can. I recall a recent morning devotional in which our dorm head told us we should not spend more than 15-20 minutes getting ready for the day—including showers and other matters of hygiene. “How can we justify spending more time than that on ourselves when we could be serving our Lord?” she said. “Will we tell Him that souls were lost because we were occupied with our appearance?” With hair dripping, I climb into my lower bunk and turn on a small lamp affixed to the bedframe. I sit cross-legged on my bed, resisting the urge to fidget so as not to unleash squeaky mattress springs on my sleeping roommates. I review I Pet. 3:18—the cornerstone scripture in a recent message series preached by Pastor Stevens: “For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit” (King James Version). According to Pastor, we need not be limited by the demands of our natural bodies. For instance, a person who is “quickened” can get by on four or five hours of sleep a night, even if he/she normally requires eight. This has not been good news for me, because in spite of my faith, I am exhausted trying to maintain my relentless schedule. I work 12-hour shifts three days a week and six hours on the fourth. I take three classes; attend three two-hour services a week; perform all-day house visitation on Saturdays; and assist with bus ministry. I also have daily dorm chores, attend weekly dorm devotionals, and try to do my part in keeping the 24/7 prayer chain going. Some seem to thrive on the never-ending activity; they are lauded as the most spiritual. I want to be counted among them, but instead, I drag myself from one activity to the next, struggle to stay awake during evening services and classes, and endure frequent colds. There’s been a recent influx of Bible school students from the Pittsburgh branch ministry—several of whom sport a curious hairstyle called a mullet: short and layered in the front, the back is left long, making it seem as if the stylist were called away on an emergency. The mullet crowd of the ‘80s are the long-haired successors to the hippies and freaks of the ‘70s. Just as Pastor encouraged the earlier recruits to come under the divine will, he will also have his way with this group. Using I Corinthians 11:14 (“Does not even nature itself teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a dishonor to him?”) as his authority, Pastor begins a series of messages that will reveal to the young men their hidden shame and bring it under the scrutiny of the congregation. One by one, the men lose their locks and receive the approval of Pastor and the “body.” But one does not retreat to the barber shop. When confronted by others about his golden, shoulder-length hair, Pat says he will cut it if and when God leads him. But this is not good enough for Pastor. I learn from some who are part of Pastor’s “inner circle” that he is growing increasingly enraged that Pat resists his “word from God.” One morning, as Pastor prepares to address us in the chapel, I can see he is agitated. He keeps scanning the audience and flipping through his Bible. We wait an unusually long time for him to begin preaching. Finally, Pastor directs us to I Cor. 11:14—as he has several times in recent weeks. He stands behind the wooden pulpit where his Bible is propped open. Softly, he reads the scripture verse several times. Then Pastor removes the microphone from its stand, hesitates a moment, and walks to the front of the stage. I follow his gaze and notice that he has planted himself directly in front of Pat, who is seated in the second row. “What kind of person resists God when He speaks?” Pastor asks. “What, you say? You haven’t heard from God? Well, you’re wrong!!” Pastor is yelling now, his free hand chopping the air in tandem with the most vehement of his words. “Not only has God spoken to you in the past, He is speaking NOW! I’ll tell you the kind of person who resists God--someone living in spiritual rebellion!” Pastor leans forward and stares at Pat without flinching. Though I am not the object of his wrath, I fight the urge to take cover under my seat. “That’s right, YOU are a spiritual rebel and YOUR HAIR is an outward manifestation of it!” Then Pastor crosses his arms, thrusts his tongue into his cheek—literally—and rocks back on his heels. “Thus sayeth the Lord,” he says quietly. A few weeks later, I notice I haven’t seen Pat around for awhile. I hope wherever he is, his golden locks are with him; they are a symbol of heroism to me. Though I don’t have the courage to withstand Pastor publically, I occasionally nurture thoughts of rebellion. The emperor is naked, I think. I am taking a class on the Fictional Works of C.S. Lewis. Lewis, a contemporary of J.R.R. Tolkien at Cambridge University in England, was the author of several treatises on the Christian faith, including The Problem of Pain—a thoughtful inquiry into human suffering. My instructor is Steve Quinlan, a 30-something pastor who recently returned from the mission field. I find Pastor Quinlan’s teaching inspired. He is gentle and reasonable, and his ideas resonate with me. Much abut the ministry confuses and disturbs me, because it contradicts my own sense of reality and moral excellence. However, in this class, I am encouraged to trust my own thoughts and feelings. Pastor Stevens’ messages are becoming more vehement. Lately, every service, class and rap has been focused on “conspiracy,” “intellectual arrogance,” and the pitfalls of liberalism. It’s beginning to dawn on me that Pastor has a particular target for these messages. Something is brewing, but I’m not sure what it is. I finally ask someone. “You haven’t heard? Steve Quinlan and a bunch of others started a conspiracy against Pastor,” one of my roommates tells me. “They tried to take the church and the Bible school away from him. But it didn’t work. The Lord is purging them from the ministry. Praise God!” Suddenly, dozens of families disappear from Lenox. I hear that many from the affiliated ministries have also defected, including several influential pastors who have been members of the church for decades. The Christian Research Institute has published a report accusing the ministry of distorted and abusive doctrines of authority. For the first time, I hear the phrase “personality cult.” And remarkably, the television news show 60 Minutes will broadcast an expose of the ministry. We are admonished by the leadership not to avail ourselves of either, because they are “from the pit of hell!” Pastor Quinlan has already left. His family will join him soon. Though I don’t know all the issues, my sympathies are with him, not Pastor Stevens. But I am afraid and confused. I have been taught daily for more than a year that I must be vigilant against deception: “Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (I Pet. 5:8). Still, I write Pastor Quinlan a letter affirming my belief in his integrity. As I walk past his house, I open the door of his car and drop the letter onto the driver’s side seat. A few days later, Jolie Quinlan flags me down from the front steps of her house as I pass by. She says, “I want you to know how much your letter meant to Steve and me.” Sometime later, Pastor Stevens preaches a message on God’s vindication. He concludes, “Make no mistake about it. No one gets away with attacking God’s man.” On the way out of service, I overhear a snippet of a conversation: “Did you hear that Jolie Quinlan died of cancer?” Many contradictions in the ministry seem increasingly impossible to reconcile. Here I have found authenticity in my relationships. But the people with whom I find it are far from the epicenter of the organization. The individuals closest to Pastor Stevens—his inner circle—seem as self-centered and superficial as anyone in the outside world. I believe in the ministry’s vision and mission, but recoil from the leadership. I am a devoted member of this church who feels most comfortable on its fringes. I sense simultaneously the presence of God and something unholy. After weeks of vascillation, I decide to speak with someone outside the ministry. I slip out the back entrance of the campus and climb the great hill on Old Stockbridge Road. I have walked this way countless times and reveled in the magnificent juxtaposition of forest and garden. But today I am aware of nothing but my interior prison. At the crest of the swelling road is the entrance to Berkshire Christian College, from which I can see the heart of the campus on an even higher pinnacle. I am reminded of Christ’s reference to a “city on a hill” that is “the light of the world.” I locate the administration building, check my courage one last time and go in. Timidly, I ask the receptionist if I can speak with someone. Within a few minutes, I am ushered into the office of the dean of students. The man before me is strikingly gentle and unassuming. The quiet sanctuary of his office feels almost like a confessional. And though we speak face-to-face, I preserve my anonymity and that of my church. I pour out my questions in a tortured torrent and find relief in his composure as one might in the conferring of absolution. But I am taken aback when the dean refers to Pastor Stevens by name and compares him to the Pope. He explains that Pastor has usurped authority over my life in a way God never intended. It is clear he has a deeper understanding of the issues than I. All my knowledge of the Bible has been contextualized by Pastor Stevens; I am not sure I can trust what the dean tells me, though I desperately want to. Only a pin-prick of light has gotten through, and it is not enough. On my walk home, any relief I feel is overtaken by a dread that grows stronger as I move closer to Pastor’s domain. I abandon all thoughts of leaving the ministry. That night I tell my roommate that I have spoken against Pastor to an outsider and ask her to help me make it right. She agrees to return with me to BCC so I can repent. The next day Colleen waits in the reception area while I go into the dean’s office for the last time. My speech is short and I take leave of him as soon as I can. Before closing the door behind me I look directly into his eyes. They are filled with sorrow, but I cannot comprehend what that means. I have remained in the ministry seven years—during which time I have graduated from Bible college, married a fellow graduate, and participated in outreach programs in the projects of Pittsfield, North Adams, Holyoke and Boston. I have visited broken, poverty-stricken families who are outcasts in society; cradled children who are neglected and abused; and shared my faith with individuals on the brink of despair. I have also spent 14 months as a missionary in Mexico City with my husband, Greg. When we return to Lenox, we’re struck by the contrast between our affluent American lifestyle—even as poor servants of Christ—and the debilitating poverty of a third-world country. In Mexico we’ve seen countless women and children sleeping in doorways, the elderly begging for food, entire communities constructed from wood scraps without running water or electricity. The church we return to is embroiled in controversy and turmoil. Pastor Stevens and other leaders are being sued by Elizabeth Dovydenas, heir to the Dayton Hudson retail chain fortune, for coercing her out of $6.5 million. We are admonished not to be present in the courtroom or to read the newspaper accounts of the trial, because they will only provide “evil hearsay” and not “the mind of Christ.” In June of 1987, U.S. Bankrupcy Court Judge James F. Queenan rules against Pastor Stevens and the ministry and hands over the entire campus—valued at $5.5 million--to Dovydenas as a settlement, saying the case “revealed an astonishing saga of clerical deceit, avarice and subjugation on the part of the church’s founder.” He appoints a trustee to manage the affairs of the church. During the first service after the verdict, Pastor Stevens asserts that he will never submit to a worldly authority and exhorts the church to relocate with him to Baltimore. He claims the ministry is being persecuted for the sake of righteousness and now God is calling us to bring the truth to those who are more deserving. His final word from God is “Ichabod”—an Old Testament reference meaning, “The glory has departed from Israel, for the ark of God was taken” (I Sam. 4:22)—because the people of New England “did not recognize a monumental work of God in their midst.” I believe the ministry is guilty of grievous wrongdoing, but I don’t dare say so. Every message includes exaltations of Pastor and the ministry; tyrades against dissenting voices; and predictions of divine retribution for those who dare question “God’s man.” I now see Pastor as a twisted, ego-maniac. He couldn’t be more different from the gentle, rational Voice who counsels me. Still, I am paralyzed by the fear that if I am wrong about the man, I am in opposition to God. I am alone in my struggle. My husband says he doesn’t believe we are being controlled, but cautions me against making waves. Every strand of our lives is intertwined with the ministry. My husband’s partner in a home improvement business is a pastor in the church; all our friends are long-time members, as is the landlord of our apartment. My husband and I have no education apart from our Bible college diplomas. What I cannot do for myself, I will do for my infant son. I cradle Stephen’s tiny body in my arms and imagine him growing up in the ministry, losing himself, overwhelmed by fear and guilt. Then I envision him as an independent, assertive young man—confident in his own judgment. I realize with a new assurance that God wants nothing less for me than what I would have for my own child. I tell Greg that although I respect his feelings about the ministry, I will be leaving. After consideration, he says we should be united in our decision. Recognizing that this is not something we can keep hidden for long, he informs D, his business partner, that we will be attending another local church. Greg is blind-sided by D’s reaction. “Get out of the business now or I will drive it into the ground,” D says. “I will not be unequally yoked with you.” It is not easy to convince D that he should give us severance pay to make a new start. Finally, he relents, but only if Greg signs an agreement not to compete in Berkshire County. We are given two weeks to make the transition to a new home and life. I don’t know how Greg manages to start a new business with little money and no support, but we survive—barely. It is not only D who rejects us following our decision to leave. We are now “marked” by all our friends as “instruments of Satan.” The only calls we receive are from a few who seek to restore us. When they realize we aren’t coming back, the calls stop. (Message edited by karen on April 03, 2005) (Message edited by karen on April 03, 2005) |
   
calv (calv) Intermediate Member Username: calv
Post Number: 324 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 4.63.182.153
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 4:33 pm: |
|
Ooooooh! stories! what it was like what happened what it is like now the facts... cant be made up! Yeah!!!! |
   
whatsup (whatsup) New member Username: whatsup
Post Number: 24 Registered: 2-2005 Posted From: 205.188.117.72
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 5:51 pm: |
|
Karen, I am disgusted by the account of what Pastor Stevens did to Pat.....how rude and presumptuous...and to use his position to humiliate someone like that. I had heard him preach against things strongly, but never witnessed him single someone out and publicly browbeat them that way. People should have just walked out at that point, but I guess they were afraid of being the next target. So sad. I do recall being in the snack bar once while Pastor Stevens was giving an impromptu rap.....one young man walked out during it, maybe he had to go somewhere, who knows....and Pastor Stevens made derogatory comments about his leaving......as if nothing should take precedence over hearing him speak. So many little things you remember that we just let slide by. I am ashamed to have even been a passive participant in such scenes |
   
boss_martian (boss_martian) Intermediate Member Username: boss_martian
Post Number: 336 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 69.143.68.103
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 5:52 pm: |
|
Thanks Steve and Karen. |
   
john_krainis (john_krainis) Member Username: john_krainis
Post Number: 80 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 207.5.195.176
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 6:10 pm: |
|
Welcome back, Steve, and thanks to you and Karen for your stories. |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 3 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 70.59.36.120
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 6:29 pm: |
|
Karen, The things you relate, especially concerning Jolie's illness and death are not new to me. They are things that only God can forgive. Thanks for posting. Moral cowardice is revealed in acts of intimidation in situations where there is a clear imbalance of power. By definition, abuse is about the relatively powerful manipulating the relatively weak. I'm going to continue a bit. In late 1979 I returned to Lenox from Indiana, PA in order to teach in the Bible School. Jolie and I rented a house off campus in West Stockbridge. I knew deep inside that with my limited education I had no business teaching in a “college” of any sort, but this was not really a college, it was a Bible school. I figured that I was as qualified as anyone else teaching, so I determined to give my best effort. I prepared to teach several classes, among which were Bible classes, a class on the fictional works of C.S. Lewis and a class in biblical interpretation based on Bernard Ramm’s Protestant Biblical Interpretation. (first published in 1950 and still in print and widely used today) This was a highly energized and exciting time for me. I was teaching material that I knew and loved and the students in the classes seemed eager to learn and grow in their faith. Most of the classes went quite well, but I ran into a few snags in the Biblical Interpretation class. From time to time, Ramm would articulate interpretive principles that clearly called some of CHS’s methods into question. On one occasion a student raised his hand, acknowledged the one of these disparities and ask me directly how I would reconcile this. I responded that in this particular case, I thought that Pastor Stevens was mistaken. This comment seemed to pass with much notice (as it should have), but some days later my classroom began to be visited by people obviously sent to “check out” what I was teaching. It was not hard to know what I was saying in the class, since almost everything was tape-recorded, but the “visitors” continued to appear from time to time. I was often very deeply moved by the sincerity and hunger of my students. There were, upon occasion, real moments of insight. Eyes would “light up” and sometimes someone would comment, “I never thought of it like that before.” These moments were and continue to be a primary motivation in my ministry. After a couple of months I began hearing disturbing reports of things that were being said by Stevens either in his class “Psychology and the Bible” (which I rarely audited) or in “rap sessions” (which I also avoided as much as possible). Apparently he was concerned with “a spirit of intellectual pride” that was appearing on the campus. When I finally heard him use this phase in a few public worship services, it became clear to me that he was referring to me and a few others who were teaching at the time. This was, I felt, in direct contradiction to the commitment he had made to me through Gene Hollick, not to interfere with the content of my classes. I decided to confront him and asked if I might have a conversation with him in his office with Gene Hollick present. Gene was a man for whom I had a great deal of respect. He was a former school superintendent and life-long educator. Gene had a graduate degree in education, and was a deeply committed Christian. He was a gentle spirit and an eminently reasonable and faithful man. I began our conversation with CHS by asking whether I was correct in understanding that he had committed himself not to interfere with the content of my classes. He acknowledged that he had. I then asked him directly if his comments about a “spirit of intellectual pride” were directed toward me and if so, did he really think that I had a “spirit of intellectual pride.” He responded, “Oh no, no, no. I have never thought that about you. My comments were not directed at you at all.” He went on to say something to the effect that he would swear on a stack of bibles that he had never had an evil or unkind thought toward me, not even once. I thanked him and left the meeting with the distinct impression that I had just witnessed a cowardly act of evasion of the very first order. My impression of this meeting notwithstanding, I spent many hours in prayer and self-examination, asking God to show me if I was suffering from intellectual pride. I did not exactly know what intellectual pride might be, so I asked God for insight. I determined that intellectual pride would have to mean exalting the human intellect over the truth of God. Thinking, as it were, that my reason, my intellect was somehow superior to God and that I knew better than God. I knew that this was not at all the case, and that while I certainly had the capacity to “strut my stuff” intellectually (still do), that this had nothing to do with thinking that I was somehow smarter than God, it was (is) just a way of getting some ego strokes. I decided that my teaching was biblically sound and consistent with a generally accepted evangelical view of the Christian faith and that I would continue to teach as I had been. The pulpit tirades against “intellectual pride” not only continued, but intensified. I became convinced that this phrase actually meant that anybody who dared think differently than Stevens was suffering from the sin of pride. Not only was this patently absurd, but it revealed what I thought to be a kind of egomania that was becoming quite dangerous. I was not alone in thinking this way, there were several others in leadership positions who felt similarly. Throughout this same period, CHS was struggling to gain some endorsement of legitimacy from Walter Martin of the Christian Research Institute. An idea began to emerge of a way that the course of TBS and the Bible School might be redirected, salvaging the best of the powerful sense of devotion to Christ and Christian community while shedding the baggage of highly dubious, if not outright unsound teachings and practices. More about that next. |
   
deb (deb) Member Username: deb
Post Number: 51 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 4.157.86.160
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 6:39 pm: |
|
Steve, I can't tell you how happy I am to "hear" your voice again, and your story. Your idea is timely and inspirational. I'm so glad that you remained with the factnet folks, even though you weren't posting. Karen, Great job!!! I could feel your feelings as you related part of your journey. Like you, I also was inspired to finally make the break from the insanity because of my children, in particular, my twin girls who were well on their way to perfecting the art of denying their own instincts, feelings, wishes, etc. They had a GREAT example in me, after all. Something about their beautiful, trusting faces gave me the courage and incentive to look at my life honestly. I sure didn't like what I saw, but it was a step in the right direction. I have stories that I would like to share, but I'm going to talk to my kids first, as they are part of nearly all my recollections. I will end for now, though, with one little remembrance that involves you, Steve. You were hosting Telephone Time, in Lenox, probably just before the time of the Martin Report. I knew that something was up, but I had no way of assessing the scope of what was to come. I had begun to question everything I had once believed about TBS, though, and in doing so, had come across an interesting Shakespeare quote that had really struck a chord with me. I had committed it to memory, and was really trying to live it. That day, something a caller asked, or said, inspired you to respond with the same quote; "This above all, to thine own self be true" and in my head, the rest of the quote continued, "and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." It may sound like a small thing, but to me, it was monumental! It was as if a hand were reaching out to me, encouraging me to continue on the path I had tentatively begun. (I think I may have even written down the rest of that quote and given it to you, I'm not sure.) Cultic armour is tough, though. It would be a few more years before I would completely leave TBS, but I had at least begun to emerge. For your part in it, Steve, a HUGE thank you! Deb |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 168 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 65.32.100.94
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 7:18 pm: |
|
Thank you so much, Steve and Karen. |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 315 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 7:33 pm: |
|
Steve Quinlan, I personally knew your wife and I thought that she was a very godly woman. I used to swim laps with her at Folkine pool and thought very highly of her. I'm sure that you won't know me, even though you made a distinct impression on me as a youth. I remember you teaching the book of Ruth. I loved your insight and appreciate the effect you had on me as a youth. Respectfully, Joe Hanson |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 106 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 7:39 pm: |
|
Storytelling calls into being the place, the setting, where a person can "be at home" and home is that place where I can tell my story. That place, that kind of storytelling is I think discovered through narrative community. This thread speaks to the lost art of story. An old wisdom teacher suggested this, "Listen! Listen to stories. For spirituality itself is conveyed by stories." I look forward to hearing a continued story, stories that become a connection between the past and the present, stories of imperfection, hope and authenticity. Steve-Thank you for the grace of your story. Karen- Wonderful images... The end comes when we no longer talk with ourselves. It is the end of genuine thinking and the beginning of the final loneliness. The remarkable thing is that the cessation of the inner dialogue marks also the end of our concern for the world around us. It is as if we noted the world and think about it only when we have to report to ourselves. Eric Hoffer |
   
joni_fortin (joni_fortin) Junior Member Username: joni_fortin
Post Number: 35 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.23.100.42
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 8:00 pm: |
|
Steve, Thank you for starting this thread. You are not aware of this, but your story is/was a huge part of my life. As an 18 year old bible college student, I was caught smack dab in the middle of the so called '81' conspiracy'. Thank you for putting the pieces together. Karen, You portray the lenox campus and the surrounding areas with such accuracy and precision. I was one of the influx of students in 1979 from Pittsburgh. I had to laugh reading about the 'mullet' hair cuts, although I had the farrah thing goin on *lol* We were just a bunch of blue-collar, in-your-face kids, looking for God. Who knew the mental gymnastics we would have to employ to survive. |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 169 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 65.32.100.94
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 8:01 pm: |
|
One of my first truly lovely impressions of Christ came in So. Berwick.... Jolie with a very colicky baby Joe... and all the women, taking turns walking Joe day and night through the corridors... |
   
bob_brinton (bob_brinton) Advanced Member Username: bob_brinton
Post Number: 740 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 151.203.183.57
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 8:02 pm: |
|
Steve, Thank you so much for rejoining us here. Your perspective means a lot to those of us who were there then. One of the things I learned from Lewis and George MacDonald (whom Lewis looked up to) was that intellectual honesty is part of what the Lord is after with us. I always felt that you wanted that. |
   
val (val) New member Username: val
Post Number: 1 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 152.163.100.9
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 9:08 pm: |
|
I stumbled on to Fact Net Easter Eve. In a round about way. Someone had emailed me Jim Faucett’s Journey. It brought back so many memories. I have spent the week sorting and sifting through threads. I think Steve is right that the stories of our lives are what will make the difference for people. It’s the people who meant a lot to me on my journey. Steve, Thanks for starting this thread. I was looking to hear news of you and many others when I looked around. I’m happy that you have found your place to serve God. I have recently rekindled my faith and hope to live a life that will exemplify Christ. My Story, I entered TBS in the mid 70’s not sure of the year in Wilmington, MA. I was 14 or 15. I got caught up in the movement of something I believed was Christian and evangelical. It was new, exciting, and seemed to be real. Most of the people I met were genuine. At one point in my life I was at a TBS meeting 7 nights a week. I learned how to drive on the back roads to Framingham. Couldn’t get enough of the CHS and others ‘anointed’ teaching. Off to Lenox in 1977, at 16, to bible college. I was definitely IN. I lacked one credit of English to graduate high school. So I got permission to take HS level English and bible college courses too. Several months in, I wrote a letter to CHS asking for ‘permission’(!) to go home and visit my family. He replied that it was better if I did not go yet because I was a new student and needed to get adjusted to dorm life. I accepted this as the ‘will of god’. I did graduate from HS in the spring of 78. I continued living in Lenox attending classes for another year and a half or so. I know many of you and those I don’t know I feel that I know you through the similar experiences. I felt a calling to serve the body in Albany. I spent several months there as secretary to Dale Walker. Served with Elaine Tarasuk, Colleen Carroll, Peter and Martha Craft and 4 sons, Rachel ?, Tom Berry. Met many wonderful people. Ended up falling in love with one of our converts. We started to go together to Lenox services, Whirlwind courtship. I went again to ask permission of CHS, this time to get married. Were counseled by CHS and others that it was not the right thing to do and if I got married and left TBS that terrible things would happen. I forget the specific threats it was soooo long ago. (It is weird writing that I believed I needed someone else to tell me what was God’s plan for my life) The man I fell in love with was the rebellious type and he did not put up with the pastah worship. I left with him slightly reluctant. (1980) But, once apart I saw the mind control and games that were played on the people in the name of Christianity. Very sad. I have gone on to live life out side TBS. Successfuly. Sometimes in sometimes out of church. My house did not burn. I did not drop dead. Or any other catastrophes as a result of leaving. I have occasionally visited GGWO because I have family there. What was amazing was to see some of the same people after 30 years of involvement. I sat in the crowd as an outsider looking in. I saw many, many sincere people trying to do what they think is the will of God. But under the leadership of an egotistical person with a self pronounced hotline to God there is little chance. Thanks for reading my story. Val |
   
isabella (isabella) Intermediate Member Username: isabella
Post Number: 232 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.128.124.90
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 10:18 pm: |
|
Thank you too, Val. |
   
wj_hunt_big_bird (wj_hunt_big_bird) New member Username: wj_hunt_big_bird
Post Number: 13 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 68.68.154.197
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 11:33 pm: |
|
Steve, I am also glad to hear from you again. One thing i have never forgot is the class you taught in the book of Ruth. It has got me through alot of situations. The statement about how to get from a bad situation to a good one has been my long standing motto, and has helped me through alot of very difficult times in my life. As i said in another thread i took that thought and dug in for the long haul for my recovery and vowed to go forward every day somehow to get back to the good,and with alot of help i seem to have made it through and am still standing,rather strongly but not without some scars as we all have. So thank you for that class ,it has had a life long effect on this persons life. William J. Hunt |
   
itsahokes (itsahokes) Junior Member Username: itsahokes
Post Number: 36 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 24.128.21.218
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 11:38 pm: |
|
posted by bruder: "the end comes when we no longer talk with ourselves. It is the end of genuine thinking and the beginning of the final loneliness." (Eric Hoffer) It's good to know that at least I'm in no danger of coming to the end. I wonder what the final loneliness is like but don't really want to know. Anyway, here's a story. Once there was an 18 year old girl whose sister was the quintessential Jesus freak of the 70's. The sister met David MacAdam, Mike Graves, Tom Schaller and other loyal TBSers somewhere in or around Portland, ME. They became fast friends and soon the sister was a secretary for CHS. He bought her things and was kind to her. One day the 18 year old went to live there also because she was an aimless airhead and wasn't doing anything else in particular. Actually, she had spent years and years talking with herself but never realized that it was an activity that would keep her from the final loneliness. She felt lonely, while her sister enjoyed many friendships with Jesus people. CHS was not kind to the 18 year old and never bought her anything. He scarcely acknowledged her existence. Until one day. Many people were hogging the hallway in S. Berwick near the side entrance, entranced by the words of CHS. She and a friend entered and tried to squeeze by to their room. "An evil presence has just entered" (complete with eerie intonation), said CHS. She knew that the friend was a sweetheart and couldn't be evil, so she knew she must be the evil one. But she began again to talk with herself. After that, she knew that it was all a hoax. The End (for now) |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 200 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.61.151.107
| | Posted on Sunday, April 03, 2005 - 11:43 pm: |
|
Itsa, you must be Melanie Benner? |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 202 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.61.151.107
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 12:12 am: |
|
Deb: Hurry up with the permission from the children and get the baby room posted. |
   
jayso (jayso) New member Username: jayso
Post Number: 1 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 69.205.150.205
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 5:43 am: |
|
Hi! I only discovered this website over the weekend. It was after thinking about the pope's illness and death, I remembered what a friend of mine said prior to my experience with TBS. "There are Protestant papacies.". I immediately thought of CHS and did a web search. Been reading all day and night with fascination. I only spent a little over a year at TBS between '76 and '78. I have a lot of memories of my time in Lenox, both good and bad. I recognize a lot of the names here on the message board and thought I would sign in... Jay Stern originally from NY City. I will post again soon and share some of my experiences with y'all. Thanks for having this forum. |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 317 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 6:18 am: |
|
- Karen, I just now read your above story and enjoyed it immensely. I love the pictures that you paint with your words. Karen, you truly do have a gift for the written word. - Steve, Just as I always enjoyed listening to you teach back in the 70's, I now equally enjoy reading your words. You are, without question, in my opinion, a man of genuine integrity. Thank you so much for sharing your story here on FACTNet and reconnecting to ALL who knew you and value your words. Marion and I hope to see you at the reunion in August. |
   
itsahokes (itsahokes) Junior Member Username: itsahokes
Post Number: 37 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 24.128.21.218
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 9:38 am: |
|
William, would you mind sharing a bit more about the statement of "how to get from a bad situation to a good one"? What was the statement, and especially, how did you implement it? |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 5 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 12.45.124.209
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 12:56 pm: |
|
Its funny how some memories stand out in consciousness while others disappear and can be recalled only with great effort if at all. For instance I remember regularly traveling from South Berwick to Burlington, VT to lead a Bible study some time in 1974 or 1975, but I can’t remember anything about the Bible study itself. Jim Hennessey usually drove my ‘65 Buick station wagon for me and Melanie Benner who was a particular friend of Jolie’s and mine often came along. I remember one trip with great clarity. Melanie grew up in a Baptist church up country in New Hampshire and I had spent plenty of time preaching in grange halls and country churches, so we had a considerable repertoire of gospel hymns between us. On the late night drive home we sang every hymn we could remember – often off key, always at the top of our lungs until our voices were gone and we could only croak them out. Experiences like that give one a taste of simple joy and can change a person’s expectations forever. |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 170 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 207.90.35.34
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 2:09 pm: |
|
Are you Melanie B. Itsa? I've got news for you, darlin, if you are... You were loved by a great many folks... You always were a very dear heart... CHS was probably feeling his own presence... cuz yours was always lovely. I'd love to have you contact me doll... merwin1@tampabay.rr.com. Are you going to the reunion in Maine in August? |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 359 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 2:15 pm: |
|
Lady BJ, the Beautiful |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 724 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 2:25 pm: |
|
Steve - thank you for coming back! Thank you for beginning your story. Also, thank you for introducing me not only to C.H. Lewis' beautifully brilliant mind, but to Francis Schaffer too. |
   
sam_i_am (sam_i_am) Intermediate Member Username: sam_i_am
Post Number: 153 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 200.66.177.28
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 3:05 pm: |
|
Love the stories, Steve and Karen. They are a part of all our stories which is a part of the BIG Story -His story. I said this openly at SC, in letters to leaders, and here on Factnet - my dream for GGWO, if we can get through the current fog, repent and find (rediscover) our true hearts, is to have a Jubilee Convention - welcoming and honoring all ex-members. Lewis is, btw, my personal hero. The movie Shadowlands brings out the personal side to this genius. Bruce Moon |
   
san (san) Member Username: san
Post Number: 87 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 69.161.57.233
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 4:23 pm: |
|
Steve (PQ) Nice to hear your words of Wisdom. I also listen but don't write. You described my feeling perfectly regarding FN. Hey BJ haven't heard from you in awhile. |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 107 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Monday, April 04, 2005 - 5:20 pm: |
|
In the spring of 1972 I picked up two guys hitchhiking on the entrance ramp to the Carlton Bridge in Bath Maine. They saw a Jesus First bumper sticker on the back of my 63 Chevy Impala. The guy that jumped into the front seat noticed I had a bible. We rode and talked about Jesus. We shouted Amen, Far Out, and Hallalujua. Our hair was long, our theology limited, our astonishment at connection and Jesus limitless. All three of us told a story of the past, the present and our hopes for the future. We listened to Love Song and Larry Norman. We were Jesus Freaks. In those moments nothing seemed impossible. Little did I know that meeting Bob Olivadoti and David Huff that day would forge a lifetime of friendship and memory. Their would be difficult days ahead but on that day it seemed the angels sang and God smiled. 3 boys in love with Jesus telling stories. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 726 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 8:27 am: |
|
Marty - thank you for that post!! And I am sure that David is smiling down with the Angels in appreciation of you and Bobbi continuing that friendship. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 360 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 10:58 am: |
|
Driving back to Vermont early on a Monday morning in the summer of 1972. Top down on the old, butter colored VW bug convertible. Long, straight, blonde hippie hair flowing free. Singing from the center of joy and pleasure. Energy abounded even though rap after rap after rap after service had robbed all sleep for two days. I found a church community that embraced barefooted, longhaired, counter-culture Jesus freaks. More than that, I found a large group of young adults who were like-minded in their search for Truth and with an almost tangible joie de vie. In this church was the opportunity for expressing our faith with non-traditional music, blended with traditional church music as well as with lifting of hands. Home. Besides this comfortable web of peers was the added enticement of a supposedly godly leader who was telling us how special we were and how unique was this particular ministry into which we had been led. I clearly remember riding through the White Mountains on an emotional high that would carry me through until the next Friday when I would make the return trip. I was part of something special; therefore I was special – unique in God’s eyes because of my connection to TBS. My physical person was traveling on Route 2 to St. Johnsbury but my life was beginning another sort of journey. |
   
calv (calv) Intermediate Member Username: calv
Post Number: 332 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 4.63.191.204
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 11:16 am: |
|
lot of diamonds in the stories!!! ... its the relationships.... something good comes after all... |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 733 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 1:19 pm: |
|
July 1975, Jack Daley and I had invited a young man and his wife to Scarborough Sunday afternoon service. We had led the young man to Christ and were excited. Funny side note, the day we met him he told us he had been "speeding" all night, Jack (who was VERY naive back then) looked at the Harley sitting in the middle of empty beer cans (he was trying to "come down") of the living room and thought he meant he had been riding his bike fast all night. As I spoke with him it became clear to Jack there there was more than one typoe of "speed" in the world. We led him to Christ a couple of hours later. When we invited him to come to Church on Sunday he said that he really did not have anything appropriate to wear. Jack explained to him that it was okay, anyone was truly welcome, and there would be plenty of people sitting on the floor in front of the pulpit in beads, beards, sandels, barfeet, bib overalls, etc., and etc., so not to worry. When Jack and I met the couple on Sunday he was wearing a new pair of slacks, shirt and tie, and his wife was in a very pretty new summer frock and had her long hair done up with a bow. The young man said, "I did not believe what you said about anyone was welcome." Jack and I felt so "proud" to be part of a ministry that was so accepting of people. (Jack, if you are in fact reading on this, I hope that memory brings a smile to your face, it did to mine. Miss your fellowship bro!!) |
   
forgiveme4tellingthetruth (forgiveme4tellingthetruth) New member Username: forgiveme4tellingthetruth
Post Number: 1 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 70.22.22.80
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 2:04 pm: |
|
What frightens me is the racial tention. The african american pastors only speak for introductions or offerings.There isn't any gospel music there. New Song Of Greater Grace Isn't Gospel. People say that everyone is welcomed,but no one is discipling the african americans.Many times I was near P.CHS he pushed past me to get to someone else who was apparantly white. (No disrespect). It hurts to put your trust in a man who you look so highly to |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 735 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 2:47 pm: |
|
forgiveme - Welcome, I do hope you will continue to post. I honestly do understand your pain! A little while back I posted on here that the black pastors were used by CHS as "tokens." And got blasted for it. But truth is truth. No reflection on the black men of God they are awesome!! The reflection is on the system. Put one or two on the front row. Have one read scripture. I knew why P. Monroe often refused to go to the front row when "invited." Once again, welcome, please stay. Ralph 1Cor 15:10 |
   
forgiveme4tellingthetruth (forgiveme4tellingthetruth) New member Username: forgiveme4tellingthetruth
Post Number: 4 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 70.22.22.80
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 3:29 pm: |
|
I will stay. I hurt many people because I was a Hardcore GG man. I wish I would have listened. I spoke to many including P. Monroe. Please Forgive me P. Monroe. |
   
jim_faucett (jim_faucett) Intermediate Member Username: jim_faucett
Post Number: 321 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.90.181.249
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 3:32 pm: |
|
forgiveme4tellingthetruth: What one Baltimore Church is doing They have a great story as well |
   
ariel (ariel) Member Username: ariel
Post Number: 70 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 141.158.99.18
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 3:47 pm: |
|
Jim F. Having read your link in the post above confirms again what ggwo people don't really believe; That is that there are thriving, healthy, God loving churches in the Baltimore area beyond ggwo. Mention this church to Carl Stevens and you can bet money on it that he will add his disclaimer of why they lack what ggwo supposedly has. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 737 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 3:59 pm: |
|
We had only been in the Lee Family Dorm for a few months, but we had come to love Jack and Lee Leonard beyond measure. Jack was a firm but loving dorm head, Lee was a compassinate shoulder for the women to cry on. I remember how Terry Silver used to say, "I got another one of Jack's notes." With that Portland Maine Police Sargeant's glare of his. Came back to haunt him, they made him dorm head later and he got to write the notes! Terry, I sure hope you are reading this, it makes me laugh everytime I think of it. Anyway, I remember the night we said goodbye to the Leonards. God was leading them to move to Boston where Jack had been ministering for quite a while by commute. Our Perrier with lemon had a salty taste from the tears. We were pleased for the step in their lives, but saddened that we would only see Jack weekly and Lee, who knew. |
   
forgiveme4tellingthetruth (forgiveme4tellingthetruth) New member Username: forgiveme4tellingthetruth
Post Number: 5 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 70.22.22.80
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 4:01 pm: |
|
Thanks Jim. I used to see your face At MBC&S Library. On The Grauated class Pictures. I read Your Story. It convinced me that it was my time to leave. I know with my story, It's enough to take to the press. Nothing like the doveydenus case. |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 6 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 70.59.36.120
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 4:41 pm: |
|
A little more of my story such as it is. It was late 1980 and early 1981 when Gene Hollick, Bruce Stevens and I along with several other folks began to develop a plan that we hoped would allow us to respond to some of the issues being raised by concerned parties within TBS and by Walter Martin’s Christian Research Institute. In its barest outline the plan was this: Since I had developed a relatively high profile in Lenox and since there was a clear and by now public disagreement between CHS and myself, for us to continue at odds with each other in Lenox would not be good for the ministry. We would both withdraw from Lenox for a time and Gene Hollick would continue to lead the Bible School while Bruce Stevens assisted by Dan Lewis would take over the day to day administration of TBS as a whole. There were plenty of very capable young preachers and teachers to carry on the work in Lenox and CHS could continue to broadcast the radio show (a prime source of income). The plan was that I would go on sabbatical to Tennessee to continue my education, and CHS would go to Florida to preach there and do the radio program. We would maintain this arrangement for at least one year in order to give the whole situation time to cool off. During that cooling off time, with some help from CRI, Gene Hollick and Bruce Stevens would chart a new and healthier direction for the ministry. The plan was presented to Pastor Stevens, and after a number of weeks of negotiation, he consented to it. We discussed the implementation of the plan and agreed that at a Sunday evening service at a date in the near future we would both address the congregation. I would go first and announce my intention to leave for a sabbatical after acknowledging that my criticisms of CHS had not always been delivered in a spirit of love and had, at times been excessive. He would follow and would announce his intention to go to Florida for year and would acknowledge that some of the teachings criticized by Walter Martin and CRI, particularly on the issues of “delegated authority” were unsound and needed correction. The Sunday evening came and I mounted the stage and took a seat beside Stevens. As the service began he leaned over to me and in his characteristic confidential whisper said, “I have talked with the branch pastors and my lawyers this week. They are all against the plan so I can't do it. I’m not doing it.” The clear implication was that he “wanted” to do it, but felt obligated to follow the advice of the branch pastors and the lawyers. I suppose he actually expected me to believe that he felt such an obligation, even though in all my experience I had never known him to feel obliged to anyone to do anything he didn’t choose to do. Those words were the last he ever spoke to me. From that night in 1981 he never spoke to me again, nor I to him. That night, I was taken aback and was unsure of what to do. But I felt I had gone this far so I might as well keep on going. I stood up and announced I was leaving, made my agreed to concessions and sat down. I didn’t hear anything else that was said that night. A short time later I moved my family to Tennessee. I often wondered why I didn’t leave TBS sooner than I did. Certainly I knew for many years that things were not right. There were plenty of indications all along the way that CHS was manipulative, coercive, and abusive in his methods. The truth is that I never liked or trusted the man very much. From the first time I saw him preach in 1972, I was put off by his strutting, pugnacious style, which I later discovered was a clear imitation of the 1900’s boxer-turned-evangelist Billy Sunday. In fact, when Jolie and I were married in 1973, we insisted that Dan Lewis perform the ceremony, neither of us felt comfortable having CHS “front and center” at our wedding. There were a few reasons for not leaving before I did, and I would suspect that they might be reasons why others remained or remain still. First there was the sense of being part of a genuine community of faith. Even though we all had our failings as human beings, all my friends and contemporaries were sincere and devoted Christians and seekers. The bonds of love and authentic fellowship are powerful. I have such poignant memories of many gatherings of handfuls of sisters and brothers in Christ, praying, singing or sharing together. I remember meeting every day in the Sunday school building behind the Woolwich Wiscasset Baptist Church and later in the basement of the old gray church in Bath for classes in the Northeast School of the Bible. We met together, worked together, broke bread together, lived together, genuinely sharing in a common life with Christ at the center. We were young and wildly idealistic. Were believed that anything was possible in Christ, and were willing to give our all for Christ’s sake and for each other. That sense of communion carried over into the old nunnery in South Berwick and even into the sprawling private school in Lenox. A common life in the spirit of the New Testament was our vision and our joy, and it was hard to let go of, even when it was hijacked and turned into a glitzy televised “world outreach.” To this day I long for a genuine experience of spiritual community. Of course another reason for not leaving was that I really didn’t have anywhere else to go or anything else to do. I was 20 years old when I came to Wiscasset in 1972 and 29 when I left Lenox. I had no college, and no skills apart from those I had gained preaching and teaching in TBS. What would I do? Start a little church somewhere? Get a job as a laborer? I was earning a good salary at TBS and if I left, how would I support my family? I had become dependent upon TBS not only for my living, but also for my status. At 27 years of age I had a snazzy office, was driving a fancy car, hosting radio and TV shows, preaching to congregations of 1000 or more, and flying around in a private plane to lead evangelistic meetings. Hey, I was a big shot! I tried not to let it go to my head, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. The thought of leaving all that for who know what was chilling. It’s scary to go from being “a big fish in a small pond” to being a small fry in a vast ocean. I have found in the years since then that I am a very small fry indeed and that the ocean is more vast than I ever thought. I often heard warnings about divine retribution coming upon those who “left the body.” Frankly, that kind of thing never impressed me much. I know some really believed (believe) that stuff, but somehow it seemed obvious to me that such warning were gross manipulations – deliberate “scare tactics” used to keep people in line. As time went by, I think I became more scared of divine retribution if I stayed. A few days after the horror of the mass suicide in Jonestown, Guiana CHS called a lunch meeting at Folkine. My memory is a little fuzzy but I recall that Bobby O, Ed Mosher and I were walking in from the parking lot and Bob, never one for being very p.c. said, “If they serve Kool-Aid in there, don’t drink it!” Ed and I stared at each other wide eyed. Somebody said, “God, Bobby!” Bob’s black humor summed up what we all knew. Things had become too close to cultic for comfort and we knew that either TBS changed dramatically or we were gone. Not very long after we were gone. |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 173 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 65.32.100.94
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 5:38 pm: |
|
My memory is a little fuzzy but I recall that Bobby O, Ed Mosher and I were walking in from the parking lot and Bob, never one for being very p.c. said, “If they serve Kool-Aid in there, don’t drink it!” Damn I needed that long hard laugh... |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 7 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 70.59.36.120
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 5:46 pm: |
|
BJ, Here's one for you. 2 AM. Bump, bump, bump. Jolie is finally getting some sleep, she had the early shift. Bump, bump, bump, up and down the stairs. He can’t sleep unless he is cradled belly down in somebody’s arms and they are walking. All our friends have learned the technique. The stairs work well – the motion suits. He drools on my arm. One night I sit with him in a rocking chair, two alone in a dark quiet room. He’s belly down and the squeaking motion of the chair suits. I am praying for him, for Jolie, for patience and peace. Slowly, as if seeping in under the door and through the cracks in the floor, the room fills with the almost palpable presence of God. I begin to weep and whisper in his small sleeping ear, “This is God you feel, I hope you remember.” Four years later he is sitting on a folding chair with legs dangling. He’s next to his little sister in the front row of an old gymnasium converted to a church. A sermon is being preached. His ears have always been sensitive – to sound? – to spirit? He turns to his little sister and says in a voice loud enough to be heard a few rows back, “He shouts too much. Let’s go.” Taking her by the hand they march out the front door in full view of everyone. I wasn’t there. The person who tells me the story is pleased. So am I. He’s 30 now and a firefighter in Tucson. He loves music and philosophy. He says he is not a Christian, but I know he still has sensitive ears and can tell whether what he is hearing is spirit or not. |
   
karen (karen) Intermediate Member Username: karen
Post Number: 177 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.128.118.166
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 6:35 pm: |
|
Steve, I owe you an apology. In my story, I said you were thirty-something. But now I learn that you were in your 20s. Please believe me that I wasn't making a judgment about how old you looked. I thought I remembered someone telling me you were 32 at the time. My BIG mistake Anyway, I am so glad you're posting again. I've really enjoyed reading your story. -Karen |
   
sam_i_am (sam_i_am) Intermediate Member Username: sam_i_am
Post Number: 155 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 200.66.177.196
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 6:42 pm: |
|
Steve, Any idea what became of Gene Hollick? I was a sophmore student when all your latest edition happened. I left for Texas to visit with my family for a month. When I came back, they had closed my mailbox, and closed out my student records. "We thought you'd left with the rest." "I hardly know those people! I just went home for a few weeks." Ever since I've been marked. It was all your fault. I'll pray your son gets his ears back. |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 8 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 12.45.124.215
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 6:52 pm: |
|
Sam: mea culpa Karen: I've always been old for my age - no possible offense given or taken. Gene: Where are you? Somewhere near Elizabethtown, PA last I knew. 1987ish |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 174 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 65.32.100.94
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 7:03 pm: |
|
Steve... I have used the technique many times, most recently with my new grand daughter, walking belly down, round and round the pool... it was the only thing to soothe her... that and singing to her while going round and round... I thought of Jolie and you and all who carried little Joe. Gosh, Steve... those were precious, blessed times that Mike and I will always cherish. Mike still says the Christian community was the best times of our lives. and that prayer in the rocker... I would say it worked... four years later he proved it! The little guy knew the emperor wore no clothes. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 364 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 69.205.241.130
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 7:07 pm: |
|
Joe Quinlan's sensitivity might just have come from his place in the zodiac...he shares the birthday of May 19 with royalty, you know!! |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 204 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.61.151.107
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 9:52 pm: |
|
I want to join the Joseph Quinlan fan bandwagon. I had very little exposure to small children before the cult. I remember babysitting Joey when he was about two in a white house in Dover, NH. My friends, Dawn & Steve Morgan, and Larry & Mardi Bemis had apartments there as well. I galloped around the house with Joey on my back for what seemed like hours doing the ‘William Tell Overture’ (theme from the Lone Ranger). Joey just kept saying ‘more’. He quickly became my favorite little kid and one of the reasons that even today I enjoy conversing and interacting with kids more than anything else. I was hoping that Steve would share what Joseph is up to today and am so glad he is well and a healthy person. |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 108 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 9:58 pm: |
|
HRH-I remember that girl and her VW. I love reading these stories. Snapshots, moments in time that speak to such dignity and grace. I'm again reminded of William Carlos Williams words from his poem "Contagious." "But now the stark dignity of entrance- Still, the profound change has come upon them: rooted, they grip down and begin to awaken." The dignity of entrance...those of you here on fn who have allowed entrance in some ways speak also to an awakening...Jack Leonard spoke of this sometime back...a great turning...a reclaiming of time by reclaiming story... |
   
isabella (isabella) Intermediate Member Username: isabella
Post Number: 239 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.31.11.230
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 11:37 pm: |
|
Thank you Steve for starting this lovely thread. Isabella |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 205 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.61.151.107
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 11:45 pm: |
|
I have already shared much of how I got to the cult in previous posts. This is an attempt to put it all together in the Stories thread. A revival was going on in Peabody, MA in the early 70s. There was a group of ‘born again’ young people not affiliated with any particular church running a coffee house in downtown Peabody. I was one of the folks who helped start and run this coffee house. I became a ‘born again Christian’ while reading the hippie Bible ‘Good News for Modern Man’. I was a junior in high school and quickly changed from sitting in a cemetery getting high with a bunch of like minded kids to beating anyone I came in contact with into salvation with my Bible. A genuine Bible beater and loving it. The days of the coffee house were my times of feeling that Christian community others have mentioned. The feeling of we were going places for Jesus and we would make an impact. One night at the coffee house a team from a place in Maine called ‘The Bible Speaks’ (TBS) showed up. They quickly discovered we had no particular church affiliation and took right over. David MacAdams became our Bible study leader. All the local church folks we were fellowshipping with at that time told us that TBS was a cult. We mentioned this to the TBS team and they assured us that these people were only saying that because they were lukewarm Christians and TBS was on fire for Jesus. Hence, the intentional recruiting and systematic indoctrination begins. The coercing of the coercible. We used to go over to a Bible study in Wilmington, MA in a barn owned by a lady named Diane. That Bible study leader was Steve Quinlan. Many of you men who were on fire for Jesus and being groomed as teachers and pastors were being ‘used’ way more than we all realized at the time. I bought the TBS phony baloney hook, line, and sinker. I was impressed with these Bible teachers. I went to some kind of Summer Class for two weeks in Scarborough, ME and by August 1974 two months after graduating from high school, I had forsaken all for ‘the highest form of education’. My poor Mother was mortified. I was supposed to attend Salem State College that fall. Carl Stevens always gave me the creeps but when he was preaching I was totally reeled into the emotional power of ‘GroupThink’. I thought based on the theme for the evening’s message either the heavens would open with angelic glory or hellfire would rain down. This so-called anointing I now know was just the power of mind control in a cult. I worked in crappy jobs all over the place. I paid my room and board, tuition, and tithed. I did bus ministry and participated in all the other drone activities. I also have fond memories of driving all over New England with a car load of people singing and laughing. I graduated from Bible School in 1977. Upon my graduation, I spoke to many of the leaders stating I wanted to go be a missionary somewhere. I just wasted three years going to Bible school to go be a missionary and Lewis tells me no one is going out at this time. I remember Lewis telling me Abraham had to wait 48 years. That statement was when I realized these people are phonies. Once I realized the place was a sham all the other weird things I saw over the past few years and denied started crystallizing for me. I wound up going to the ‘body house’ in Gloucester, MA. The best thing there was the ‘blizzard of ‘78'. The front lawn became the Atlantic Ocean. We were all out there watching the storm with ski goggles. We had a lot of fun joy riding up and down the coast checking out the effects of the storm. We ate a lot of cannolis. I still love cannolis to this day. One week later, I called my brother in Marblehead, MA and asked him if I could come live with him. I told him I knew these people were phonies and I didn’t know how to live in this world. What a sad state for a 21 year old girl. I didn’t just leave. I vacillated back and forth for about a year. I would cry to my brother, and say I walked out of God’s plan for my life. He would tell me God’s plan for your life is what is happening right now. I realize we had to go through everything we did to be what we are today but I always have some sadness thinking how it could have been different if I didn’t choose deception. TBS was not a place God led me. God has sustained me through all my poor choices. God has stayed by me. God has blessed my life in spite of myself. I thought there was much clickiness at TBS. Many of the folks close to Carl treated the regular schmoes condescendingly. The way to get in Carleluia’s inner circle as a women was to run out to his car and tell him how wonderful he was. Lisa Hughes and Patty Huff were the chief instructors in ‘God’s Complete Bimbo’ training during my cult days. The beauty of this discussion board is we come here as equals. Those of you who were once leaders you were the ‘used’ being trained to be ‘users’. Carl was training you to be like him. Thank God, your blinders came off and you got to leave and repent. If we stay after we realize it is a sham we become users. I don’t revere any of you or need you to lead me but I do respect you as fellow children of God. I love reading all of your stories. I am interested in seeing you all in reality not as a brainwashed naive young girl. I rejoice in your success at living this gift called life. TBS was a terrible place for women and children and unlike the poor women born into oppressive cultures, I chose to go there with my own free will. It was many years after I left that my dear childhood friends got out of the cult. Thank God today we are all free. We are not free from the emotional scars but God has taught us how to use the scars as reminders of his redeeming power and love. Louise Maguire back then |
   
isabella (isabella) Intermediate Member Username: isabella
Post Number: 240 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.31.11.230
| | Posted on Tuesday, April 05, 2005 - 11:56 pm: |
|
Yes! Exactly Louise! Canollies will always be delicious but they will never taste as good as they did then! Isabella for now |
   
whatsup (whatsup) Junior Member Username: whatsup
Post Number: 27 Registered: 2-2005 Posted From: 205.188.117.72
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 12:02 am: |
|
Louise, didn't you almost go on a "team" to California? |
   
jayso (jayso) New member Username: jayso
Post Number: 2 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 69.205.150.205
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 12:24 am: |
|
I was introduced to TBS through two "Dougs" Doug Koring and Doug Locke who became students at So. Berwick and Lenox. The two Dougs were fellow members of a small church in White Plains, NY and would come home to visit and speak highly of Pastor Stevens and TBS ministry and college. I used to listen to "Telephone Time" on WWDJ out of New Jersey, so was familiar with the outreach at TBS as it appealed to the general public. I don't remember the date, but sometime in the mid 70s, TBS had a meeting at the Lamb's Club in midtown Manhattan. I attended and met two "Nicks" Nick Roerig and Nick Priest from England. They convinced me to come up to Lenox to see the school. Having just completed my first year of college in NYC (CUNY), I believed God had a higher calling for me , so I should drop secular studies and go to Bible college. I discussed this with my wonderful pastor in White Plains and was given his and his wife's blessing with a word of advice: "Eat the meat and spit out the bones". This is what they told all people regarding Bible schools. Our pastor (John Gamble) taught us to be discerning and consider all things taught in light of Scripture and the Holy Spirit. Even though we had a tight knit church with a dynamic youth ministry, we were taught to be "led of God" and NOT of man. The leaders in White Plains never lorded over the flock and were generally against "heavy shepherding" which was kinda popular in the mid '70s". During spring and summer '76, I visited TBS regularly and enjoyed much of the fellowship and learnt a lot from the expository Bible teaching and preaching. I noticed quite a bit of "love balming" especially by some of the women on campus. They often told me "wow, what a wonderful man of God you are.", or "Boy you have an amazing haaaaht (NE accent) for Gaahwd (NE accent). It didn't seem right to me because these people barely knew me, how could they know my heart (haaaht)? At the time I fluffed it off as immaturity and overzealousness to recruit more students. Truth is, I was there because I was seriously searching for a balanced, non denominational Bible education! The love balming was a bit of an annoyance and activated the "cult alert system" in my mind. I carefully considered and prayed about registering for TBS school. I had already left my secular college and became employed with AT&T. I travelled to Lenox a couple times a week to become "part of the body". I was 20 years old and had a good paying job. I was given a transfer to Springfield, MA and knew I could live in Lenox and make the commute with my trusty '64 Ford Falcon wagon! I moved to Lenox in Dec. '76, registered for classes and lived at the Lee dorm with a lot of other guys. Jack Leonard (always knew he wasn't a tyrant!) was in charge of the dorm. I thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship of new friends made and was amazed at how safe and beautiful the Berkshires were. Not even a proper lock on the door of the dorm! What a difference from the Bronx! I paid my tuition and room and board every week, until I was commanded to quit my job by the "job pastor" - Jerry Schwarz (RIP). One night I was woke up by a brother who told me "Thus saith the Lord AND Jerry Schwarz - QUIT YOUR JOB!". I went to Pastor Schwarz and asked for an explanation. He told me my job with AT&T was taking me away from the body because I was missing Wed. evening church services. If I didn't quit the job, I would have to "answer to Pastor Stevens". A couple of weeks went by and with car trouble and injuring my knee by falling on ice at the Lee Dorm, I quit my job, satisfying the "command of the LORD and Jerry Schwarz". After my paychecks ran out, I became unable to make payments to TBS. There was not a job to be had which didn't take me away from a service or a class! My money ran out. My unsaved Jewish parents would not lend me a penny (any wonder?)! So, I volunteered on campus and diligently looked for work that I could do with an injured knee. Not too easy to find in Lenox winter! After about 3 weeks all the students behind on their bills were summoned to a meeting. I don't remember who spoke with us at the chapel, think it was D. Lewis - but whoever it was said that all of us are to get a job - ANY JOB, no matter what hours or what it is because we had to be current on our bill. I could even get my job back at AT&T if I wanted! WOW - a little too late! Since I had been volunteering with J. Schwarz and pastor Huff in the "job office", I knew of an opening at Edgecombe Nursing home in Lenox. They had an opening for an 11-7 3rd. shift bed pan person. I took the job and found that the hours even took me further away from the body than my job in Springfield; I could hardly stay awake for classes and services. I only lasted 3 weeks at that job; couldn't take the smells (big guy but weak stomach, I guess). I was rehired by MaBell in Pittsfield (NE TEL), working afternoons or late evening shifts. At that point, I didn't give a rat's behind about delegated authority or the "fear of P.Stevens". I found the whole idea of "quit thy job, then take any job" hypocritical and couldn't believe I allowed myself to be even slightly manipulated in such manner. I couldn't make evening services and the conditions at the dorm were unbearable due to my work schedule. I came in late at night and had to rise early... couldn't sleep anyhow with all the noise. I told my plight to good friend Dick Werren (blitz bus driver) who had a camera repair shop in Lee. He told me he would rent a room to me in his apt. I took him up on his offer. Dick and Bette Werren and their children were with the ministry from Maine and even though not as cultured or intellectual as some members were, they had a "portion" (LOL) which they shared freely with the "body" and were loved by many. Dick had a dry sense of humor and a real down east personality - so it was challenging to me who was "a Jew from NOOO YAWK" to understand him sometimes. One thing I knew about Dick is that he was sincere and was sincerely committed to TBS. One evening, we were at Service, sitting near each other. He approached me as we were leaving the service with tears in his eyes. He said "Jay, I just can't believe what I just saw!" I said "What do you mean?". He started weeping and said "I saw the worship of Carl Stevens". He was distraught and said that in the early days, this didn't happen and he doesn't know how he can handle it. Around this time there was a lot of fear preaching from the pulpit about those who leave or question TBS. I remember vaugely hearing from CHS about someone (enemy of the ministry) hit by lightning in a car in Lenox and other catastrophies which occurred to defectors. There was talk of conspiracy and malicious gossip about those who left the ministry for any reason. Absolutely no love lost there! People were maligned when they left or expressed dissent. I put out limited questions to some of my close (so i thought) colleagues in the ministry and was strongly rebuked, if not condemned for even bringing up questions about the "apostle" Stevens and the strongarm tactics of his "delegated authority". I was accused of being at the first stage of "leaving the BODY [of Christ??]". Fortunately I had a decent grounding in the Word before TBS and had a wonderful church family outside of TBS, so I KNEW such teaching was cultish B.S. Not withstanding, I thought TBS had hope, although I didn't think change could be brought about by my continuing there. My decision to leave the ministry was finalized when after helping Joe & Joyce Catanzaro of Lowell, MA move to Lee Manor (Ashby's dorm), I saw first hand how he and his family were treated by CHS and "the sheriff" (Elwood?). Joe and Joyce sold their very nice home in Lowell and were promissed nice accommodations in TBS if they donated proceeds from the house to the ministry. They had a mentally ill son who they also were promissed would be "cared for" and loved by the "body". WELL... One day, Joe found his son HANDCUFFED to a lamp post by the TBS sheriff! In addition, the accomodations provided for him, his wife and his two sons was a small room with two bunks in the Lee Manor. They were promissed better living quarters, but this never came to pass. For weeks, Joe tried to speak with P. Stevens. He was STOOD UP 3 times. THEN, one night during a service, CHS said "I know there is a man who is trying to make an appointment with me. I am purposely not meeting with him because he needs to submit to the cross and learn humility.". Joe was sitting next to me and was outraged. I felt bad for him because I know he sacrificed a lot for P. Stevens, but Stevens would not even keep an appointment with him?! That was brutal. IMO, his excuse was inexcusable and RUDE. Joe and his family left the ministry shortly after and rented a house in Lee. I left the ministry and moved to Chatham, NY. Worked for Taconic Telephone Co., joined a terrific Baptist church and rented a small apartment in Valatie, NY. One night, I got a collect call from a friend at TBS... It was around 230am and I accepted it because I thought the guy was in some sort of trouble. Anyhow, he called me collect to tell me I have left the BODY of Christ and I am in great spiritual danger!. I told him not to call me collect again with such nonsense. Too much of TBS is weird to me. I am glad to see its leader being brought down off his pedestal. IMO, the ministry will NEVER be the same w/o CHS! He IS TBS/GGWO! I believe and trust GGWO leaders will come to realize their ministry must change and operate truly according to scripture, ie: Whom the Son sets free is FREE INDEED! I feel sorry for all the people whose lives have been negatively affected by CHS and his authoritarian delegation. Prayer for healing and may God's will be done in Baltimore as in all the branches! One more story I'll tell you (which i found amusing),although abusive of the "Gift [word] of knowledge". I attended a meeting in Dover Plains, NY where I helped on a ministry team there (Dave and Shirley Booth?? and Ken Alpern)... anyhooo, here it is: "Dr." Stevens preached one of his WOW, BOY that's AMAAAAAZING messages; dazzling the audience with such sentences(???) as: "The corporateness of God's oneness in relationship to our fellowship in the union of communion through a cross which died for us - (the HYPOSTATIC union of communion!)" (BIG TIME WOWZZZ, Boy that's Amazingzzz, heavy revy? What ever happened to "AMEN"?! too "carnal", i guess! As the alter call was given (this was in a theatre), CHS looked up intently at the balcony (i was sitting in the orchestra thank God!) and said "THERE IS A YOUNG MAN IN THE THIRD ROW OF THE BALCONY WHO HAS A DISGUSTING MASTURBATION HABIT! IF YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, STAND UP AND YOU WILL BE DELIVERED.". Funny thing: ALL THE YOUNG MEN IN THE 3rd ROW balcony stood up! CHS said "Thank you, I knew there were more than one". ROTFLMAO! I always wondered what if he said "Stand up if you like ice cream?". Thanks for the opportunity to rehash some of my experience with TBS. Although not personally wounded from this ministry, my heart (haaaaaht) goes out to all of you who stood by and nearly lost your souls (if that were possible;i think not!) by being browbeaten by the cultish leaders. BTW, Steve Quinlan - I thought you WERE one of them. You seemed to be in the clique who followed closely behind "Dr." Stevens like Yeshiva boys follow their rabbi. Glad to see, after reading your story, I was wrong about that. Goes to show ya, looks are deceiving! God bless you all. -Jay (Message edited by jayso on April 06, 2005) |
   
john_krainis (john_krainis) Member Username: john_krainis
Post Number: 81 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 207.5.195.176
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 6:16 am: |
|
Thanks Jay, and it's good to hear from a fellow descendant of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob  |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 206 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.61.151.107
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 7:53 am: |
|
Great Story, Jay! My recollection is that Steve was one of them. He was just a fortunate one that got out. I beg to differ although I hope you are right about once Carleluia being gone the place will become a church. These men who are the present leaders in GGWO have been trained to be just like Carl. They use the Bible and Jesus' precious message of salvation to gain control over people and extract money from people. Whatsup, if I almost went on a team to Califonia I was never informed. Are you also itsahokes? If so, I know you are Melanie. |
   
whatsup (whatsup) Junior Member Username: whatsup
Post Number: 28 Registered: 2-2005 Posted From: 152.163.100.9
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 8:54 am: |
|
Yes you did have plans to go to California, Louise.... I was in Lenox at that time and you were most certainly informed....you were having a tag sale for it and then you changed your mind and did not go. Do you really have no memory of that or do you just for whatever reason not want to talk about it. Its really not even a big deal anyway, certainly nothing to have a debate over |
   
jim_kennedy (jim_kennedy) Intermediate Member Username: jim_kennedy
Post Number: 168 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 172.134.41.183
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 9:03 am: |
|
I pulled into Lenox New Years Eve 1982. I can't remember the name of the dorm they put me in, Thayer? A large room with bunk beds in cubicles separated by bedsheets. It looked like Ralph Abernathy's"Resurrection City" in a Washington DC civil rights march in 1969. Stapled on the bulletin board was a paper entitled How to Avoid Defilement By Listening to an Evil Report. My new roomate was quitting the ministry and would leave that week. He didn't say a word to me. I was awakened at 5:30 the next morning by a bullhorn for an unannounced prayer meeting. I remember walking around the chilly almost empty campus Jan. 2 and saying to myself "What have I done." I had just sold my drums, completely alienated my family, had no car and no where to go. Two trains of thought which had been wired into my head also seemed to speak louder than any second thoughts I was having: "God called you here, don't judge." The light of critical thinking was beginning to dim. Jim |
   
louise_connolly (louise_connolly) Intermediate Member Username: louise_connolly
Post Number: 207 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 208.249.29.210
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 9:56 am: |
|
Whatsup, I don't want to clutter up the stories thread with your anonymous recollections. If you wish to refresh my memory, please email me at wease2000@comcast.net I don't know how I could have a tag sale when I had nothing to sell. I think you have me mixed up with someone else. |
   
whatsup (whatsup) Junior Member Username: whatsup
Post Number: 29 Registered: 2-2005 Posted From: 64.12.116.9
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 10:03 am: |
|
Louise, it was a sale for all the team members going, you were one of them, I don't have you mixed up...... but it is really not important so lets just forget about it |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 682 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.188.116.9
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 10:36 am: |
|
This is a ground breaking thread. So much substance! I don't know if it is just me but I catch a glimpse of something huge. The stories have healing in them. We entered a deceptive, counterfeit group, but there was also this strong cord of love that led each of us out. I found the story of little Joe Quinlan taking his sister's hand and leading her out so sweetly profound. It is a picture of the Holy Spirit taking our hand and saying "Let's go." And through our stories we can turn to our sisters and brothers and say "Let's go" and lead them out. I have incredible thankfulness for meeting all of you and through you, glimpsing at a merciful and faithful God. He.. you.. take my breath away. The stories tell us the truth..... |
   
lee (lee) Intermediate Member Username: lee
Post Number: 413 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.60.213.249
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 10:44 am: |
|
I appreciate having you back to tell us your story Steve, because it is filling in gaps for me. We were in Boston at the time and not fully aware of what was happening, except that you were off, as well as others. Jack was asked to come back to be the BS Pres and we wondered why. It's apalling now that he is a real educator, with earned degrees, to think that, although he had an education, he would be put into such a position! Hindsight is good in this instance because, I can see that it was the beginning of having our eyes opened. I for one, was good at putting things on the shelves of my mind. Too many things were happening for me to process all at once, and it helped to have things stored away for future reference. thanks |
   
itsahokes (itsahokes) Junior Member Username: itsahokes
Post Number: 39 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 24.128.21.218
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 11:24 am: |
|
Louise, I don't know who whatsup is, but you're right that I am Melanie. |
   
jayso (jayso) New member Username: jayso
Post Number: 4 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 69.205.150.205
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 3:57 pm: |
|
I am confident there are no other Stevens', even though the "Yeshiva Boyz" can do a darn good imitation of him! I can too... voice, accent, mannerism, even the intellectual gobbely gook! BUT, I think the removal of CHS will either cause the ministry to become legit - OR fold. Nobody can imitate a person's spirit or soul well enough to be totally convincing to bilk the same amount of money and usurp the level of CHS's "authority" over God's people! I BELIEVE THAT! There will NEVER be another Hitler in Germany,although there are many "mini hitlers" (neo-nazis) who obviously have no control over Germany anymore. Not that I compare CHS with AH; just using an analogy that (so far),no man can fill the shoes of someone SO evil! I think Schaller can do a good job on TRYING to become a Stevens clone, but lacks the "single eye" and seriousness that CHS had. Don't believe he can pull it off successfully for 30+ years or even 3 years! I didn't know P. Stenger, but from what I read, he is more apt to be "himself" and listen to God and the concerns of GG'ers and their critics. When I lived in the Saratoga Spgs, NY area, I was good friends with pastor David Moore. His church was a lot different from Lenox. Anyone know where he stands on the issues of GG? He would get my vote to be in the GGWO homebase leadership, if he hasn't been spoiled! |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 754 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 4:05 pm: |
|
Jayso - have not heard a word about David Moore's position. But regarding Rodger Stenger, yes he is a man of integrity who woudl have insisted on SC change, ergo, not wanted. |
   
wj_hunt_big_bird (wj_hunt_big_bird) New member Username: wj_hunt_big_bird
Post Number: 14 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 68.68.154.197
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 4:48 pm: |
|
itsahokes, i believe you asked what was ment "going from a bad situation to a good" and how did i implement it. it has been a long time since i even looked at the book of Ruth. This is what i remember..... Ruth i believe left her home land to marry and had two son's that were married to two native girls,Ruth's husband died along with the two sons and left three widows.Being all alone in a strange land ,Ruth wanted to get to her homeland. As i remember her two daughter in laws decided to follow her (maybe one,am not sure), but it was important for her to get back home and Steve Quinlin stated that even though it seemed impossible that by taking one step at a time you would eventually get back ,and Ruth did and ended up marrying Boaz who was a decendant of Jesus. So thus the statement "the best way to get from a bad situation to a good is one step at a time. The way i implimented that is I allowed myself to stray way over to that land of no hope and little chance in my eyes to ever get back. I went wild and indulged in every thing i could, trying my best to use up every resource my body had.I kinda got stuck in the trap.A failed marriage(my fault) drugs, alcohol and ever thing in the middle over took me and i just didn't see that i would ever make it out. So i was in that land and wanting to make it home. I remembered what Steve Quinlin taught and purposed that i would do what ever it took to get back . The way i didn't get discouraged is by remembering Ruth and her journey and knowing that if i could hang in there long enough i would make it,and with a little help for family and friends ,actually alot of help, and a praying mother i did make it.In the process my two girls had to suffer the most, but thank God i am over the hump and suffice it to say that i am doing great now, and all that stuff is behind me now. This is a small portion of the story, too long to get into it any more, but gives you the idea a little bit. To this day i do not attend church,but my belief that God's hand was on me is still there. As I have stated before I am a career firefighter so i need to draw on my faith sometimes to deal with things, as far as attending a church, well i am still working on that. I am sure some people went through worse things and some not quite so bad but to me it was the battle of my life,and i made it, and part was because i remembered the story of Ruth as taught by Steve Quinlin.Of course there is a lot of other factors but this one was definitly a big one. I am not sure if my facts are correct about Ruth But that was the base of it. William J. Hunt |
   
bobbie (bobbie) New member Username: bobbie
Post Number: 4 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 69.250.165.62
| | Posted on Wednesday, April 06, 2005 - 9:49 pm: |
|
please don't make this a conversation thread. the stories i have read are just like water in the desert for someone that is trying to figure this all out. there are so many other threads to converse on .I just convinced my husband to read here because the other threads are just too confusing and selfserving for him. i believe reading these stories will give the best understanding of how this all happened .please don't ruin it.please |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 374 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 10:33 am: |
|
Coffee burned her fingers as she juggled keys, purse, books, jacket and a sleeve of tulips intended to make her believe that spring had truly arrived in Yarmouth even though it wasn’t yet April. The cavernous halls echoed back her steps while the grey-toned eyes of Preceptors and Headmasters of the past 200 years seemed to stare down with insight that silent lips longed to speak. They knew the secret. There would be questions. “How could intelligent people buy into that idiocy?” “What are they, all stupid?” “Where were their families? Why didn’t they get them out of there?” It is typical behavior for people to dissect sensational events and chew on them until every bit of juice is wrung for each morbid detail. This is especially true in schools and in particular institutions of education in the private sector. So, she anticipated with a certain dread, the first such question that would be aimed at her. “What could possibly bring even a semi-intelligent person to the point where they would commit suicide for the sake of some whacky guy with a tweaked religious fervor?” Truth was, she knew. She knew from the marrow how it happens. When Jonestown members accepted the Koolaid she was still in and even then had a difficult time convincing herself that it “would never happen in TBS” – now years later, seeing the Nike clad, shrouded figures laying in state in a California mansion, she knew it most certainly could have reached that point within the group that had become her life. It was fairly easy to make others see how the joy, camaraderie, acceptance, and sweet spirit in the church – so different from what she had found in other places - could draw one in initially. But how could she explain the subtle maneuverings that wove themselves around the heart, intellect, and soul to bind one to it? Looking from the outside it would be incomprehensible that any adult would bury questions trying to cause a blip on the radar screen of conscious thought…but if a member questioned leadership they believed (because of subtle teaching) that they could be led astray, or that they were not right with God…why? Because the man who they were certain was a learned, spiritual man of God had told them that God promised that everything he said or did would be anointed! Who were young hippie Jesus freaks to doubt such a one? She now remembered times when people did question or point out that the Emperor had no clothes – the message came down from on high that it was a Satanic attack trying to thwart the movement of the Holy Spirit and whomever had dared ask the question was marked, denegrated, shunned, and often blasted from the pulpit. Perhaps today she would just shake her head as in disbelief when the inevitable questions came. No one could ever truly understand if they had not lived it…she knew the eyes in the hall would keep her secret. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 772 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 11:26 am: |
|
Here we were preparing to go on the mission field. "Why so soon," Some ask, "You have have only been here two years?" Well, because I had "crammed" three years of school into two years with my conviction that the object was to get the schooling done and get on the mission field. After all, God had called us to the mission field not to Lenox. Being there only two years, having a wife and five children, working 44 plus hours at GE, "cramming" the three years of school into two, doing jail minstry with prescious Bill Hill, had not allowed any time too "see" what was going on in Lenox. Barely had time to think!! Sometimes it still seems such a blur, a flurry of activity. But this one thing we did do, we made some wonderful friends! Now we are preapring to go to South America. Sitting in a wonderful (expensive0 restaurant we gaze into the smiling faces of six wonderful friends. These precious friends have scrapped together hard earned money to take Kathleen and me out for a farewell dinner. There were others who wanted ot be there, but they could not afford it on the "wonderful" paying jobs they had. But these six are here, and as we look into the faces of Terry and Ruth Silver, Jim and Lori Young, and John and Robin Whallen, we think of the wonderful memories. Memories forged in suffering adversities and reveling in joyous times together at Lee Dorm and on various outreaches. What memories their, and many other, names evoke. So many eternal moments! Yes we can say of Lenox, as one writer has said, "They were the worst of times, they were best of times." |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 332 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 12:25 pm: |
|
*Please forgive me for posting lyrics to a song, but I just find it so appropriate for this thread, because in it's lyrics is a story, which I think pertains to many of our lives.* ~Time Is a Healer - best sung by Eva Cassidy~ I found a picture of your smiling face Bringing old memories that I had locked away The burden of anger from a heart filled with pain Was finally lifted and I smile at you again Chorus:- If time is a healer Then all hearts that break Are put back together again Cause love heals the wound it makes I spoke such harsh words before our goodbye Well I wanted to hurt you for the tears you made You made me cry All my hopes and dreams, well they started vanishing Those tender hurt feelings became a dangerous thing Chorus:- If time is a healer Then all hearts that break Are put back together again Cause love heals the wound it makes All of those years we spent together Well they're part of my life forever I hold the joy with the pain And the truth is, I miss you my friend Chorus:- If time is a healer Then all hearts that break Are put back together again Cause love heals the wound it makes |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 375 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 12:35 pm: |
|
God bless dear Eva Cassidy's soul!! Thanks, for the reminder, Joe - very poignant |
   
lee (lee) Intermediate Member Username: lee
Post Number: 415 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.60.213.249
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 1:21 pm: |
|
HRH your story struck a nerve! We live in an area that still has memories of TBS. So, when we go to some small group for the first time, we are often asked to give our testimony. That is okay, cause its easy to leave out the ministry's name, but more often than not, someone will ask where did you go to church? Then the questions and strange looks start! If they don't come right away, and you stay in this small group eventually, they will get your story out of you. You don't want to stay aloof or lie, but you wrestle with how much to tell and how to tell it. Where and what do you do with 9 years of your life? More, if you count in the number of years it took to get the cult out of your thinking and speaking. A big sigh of relief, if those hearing your story don't care, but to some, you are an odd person, a bit spiritually handicapped? Perhaps its a religious spirit, or maybe an idol worshipping demon? Perhaps you need to be taught? Okay, you can go to the 'new beginner's class'. You can learn what it means to be saved, then you can graduate to learning how to pray! Stick with the young folk, they have no memory of TBS and it's reputation that refuses to die! But they get tired of you real fast....'how old are you?' It's always a trip to meet new people, or be with those that have a memory! Somehow, you are forever marked by your history. Your former pastor's sins become yours, or you become an enabler of them. You left the place and people that weren't doing it right and were called demonized, you get with others that hear your story and they think you might be demonized!!! Can you win? Yes, we have a rich heritage. My faith is so settled and sure. I may not have all the answers or give you a dissertation of the word, but I know what I know and who I know and that is solid and immoveable. God has been faithful to bring people into our lives that have experiences that run deep. We aren't into building our own kingdoms to rule in or follow someone that will do it for us. We simply walk everyday believing it will be a day that is filled with truth. I say, thats the best anointing to have. The power to love and be loved. A small world? No. It's a rich world. We know a great God, and he gives us an impossibly great life. Marked? Sure, we are marked. I'm not ashamed, neither am I proud of it. It's become a solid foundation on which to build something that I believe we'll carry with us into eternity. Victims? maybe once. The wisdom gained from stopping the cycle is priceless. Fellowship.....friendship......making these connections with all of you is just what we've been looking for. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 775 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 1:40 pm: |
|
I have known Jack Daly for a few months now. He has constantly been asking me to come and hear Pastor Stevens. I am not really led to, I have gone to hear many so called "great preachers" only to be let down by their shallowness and limited use of scripture. In early May Jack asked if I was going to be busy on Saturday. When I said no he told me that he and a couple of other fellows are going to Scarborough to meet with P. Stevens to see about having a TBS Church in Brunswick. So I agreed. On Saturday we made the drive to Scarborough. What a wonderful drive, it was one of those beautiful spring days that "downeast Maine" is noted for. Driving down with Fred Bower, another man I dearly loved, was a time of sweet fellowship and pleasantries. We met with P. Stevens for about twenty minutes. The upshot was that everyone would pray and they would meet again in two weeks. On the way back to Brunswick Jack asked what I thought about P. Stevens. I told him that P. Stevens used more srcipture in a twenty minute business meeting that most preachers do in a month of preaching, "I like it." Could he preach a good message? More often than not he did. Little did I know then that he would just as quickly bend scripture to his own end. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 378 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 2:50 pm: |
|
Thanks Ralph - more memories. Lee - During the past several years when I'm asked questions like you mention above, I just go straight at it and say, "Oh, I was in a cult for 10 years!' You know, just let them know that I am a fascinating person with a unique story! It's an interesting study in human psychology to watch the responses! |
   
lee (lee) Intermediate Member Username: lee
Post Number: 418 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.60.213.249
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 2:53 pm: |
|
Yes it is. It's like things go into slow motion. You can see the mind twist and turn and try to figure you out! I especially enjoy the young ones that want to 'deliver' you from it! We have indeed become fascinating! |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 379 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 3:06 pm: |
|
Lee - HA! It's all part of who we are now...all the various events (good & bad) that are part of our memories now...there's no sense in struggling to correct something stupid we did in the past. It just "is" - much healthier to accept that it happened and is now integrated into the pattern that is our life. What's the big deal anyway? Before and after TBS I did things that I wish I hadn't - expect I'll do a couple more such things before I shed my humanity. Do ya think???? But there is also the balancing factor of good lessons learned and kindnesses done, etc. Oops - better move along before I step up on the old soap box and put everyone to sleep!!!!!! |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 787 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 3:11 pm: |
|
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ |
   
joyce (joyce) New member Username: joyce
Post Number: 1 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 65.175.245.20
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 3:13 pm: |
|
}This is my "maiden voyage" into factnet. I've been reading it for some weeks now and would like to contribute another "story" and hope that it DOES contribute and not detract from the character of this thread. It saddens me to read about so much deception that went on in S. Berwick, Lenox, Baltimore, etc. My husband and I decided not to go forward with TBS after we went through the Doveydenas experience in Lenox. We heard first hand what went on and said "no more." Our kids (7 in total, his & mine) had friends one day and the next day they were GONE. It affected all of them differently. We moved on to Springfield, loved it there. Then all hell broke loose when Steve Stratos "disappeared." Now, due to a job relocation, we live in Kennebunk, Maine. I work for the pastor of a very active, on-the-move church. He travels by himself; has no entourage. I see first hand his servant heart and know a lot of what goes on behind the scenes. He's not perfect, but authentic. I'm writing today to tell you, my friends, that anger and owrry erase the promises of God from our minds. I've been through a devastating divorce (in Lenox), deaths in my family, treated as an "outcast" by those still in GGWO, etc. I have lived through, what I think to be, the darkest of nights and amazed myself by waking up in the morning and one day even smiled again. "What goes 'round.... comes'round." Curve balls come and go..... and will come again. I embrace the message of grace (thanks mostly to Pastor Quinlan!) and cannot deny the hand of God on my life this whole time. I have a wonderful marriage, a caring, sensitive husband, 7 great kids (combined) and 11 grandchildren. God is good. "This is my story..... this is my song. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 788 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 3:15 pm: |
|
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ Uhhhhhh, (see stretching and yawning) sorry Alanna, were you saying something? I was just checking my eyelids for light leaks and couldn't hear you. |
   
lee (lee) Intermediate Member Username: lee
Post Number: 420 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.60.213.249
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 3:57 pm: |
|
Welcome to FN Joyce! I'm sure you have the stamina for this ride! Glad to hear things have turned out so well for you. I am not surprised however, as you are as steady as they come......your husband as well! I guess all our children are adults now......we have no grandchildren yet...we eagerly await them....only one married right now. Last time we talked, I think we must have been still trying to figure things out and see our way clearly. We are blessed. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 382 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 4:15 pm: |
|
Welcome, Joyce. Forgive Sir Ralph - he forgot to take his Geritol today and also his eyes are leaking...we got in a plumber to fix it, but alas...to no avail. I so agree with you that prolonged anger is significantly counterproductive. However, for people in various stages of "getting out" it can be part of the complex web of emotions that individuals may have to go through in processing a whole new way of perceiving their past, God, self, and basically all of life! Not at all unlike the rollercoaster of emotions one might experience after the sudden death of a loved one or some trauma. So, several people express their anger here...most of the time it is a safe place to do so. (Not lecturing here, just thought this perspective might be helpful.) Sounds like your life is one of grace -- even though you "left the covering of the Body!!!!!" Welcome! |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 692 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 64.12.116.9
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 6:07 pm: |
|
Oh Joyce, welcome! In your first post you encapsulate the journey out and on. When you speak of dark nights, the depth of those words need no further explanation. We know, we have all shared that same grief and pain. I never knew you when you were "in" but I remember bringing a package up to you in West Springfield (my hometown) from Wendy. God Bless You and your husband! Warm Welcome to you... |
   
just_curious (just_curious) Intermediate Member Username: just_curious
Post Number: 289 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 69.227.84.150
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 8:18 pm: |
|
Hello everyone, I had never heard of GGWO until I started posting on another thread on FACTNet. During lulls in activity on that thread, I started wandering aimlessly through some of the others and happened upon this one. I just want you all to know how blessed and touched I have been by reading many of your stories! There is so much I can relate to having been "marked" myself as a teenager due to having a "divisive" father. (translation: he began to question the abusive tactics of leadership) That happened many years ago but it is almost impossible to completely "move on" when you have family members still trapped in a cultic group. I have smiled (on the verge of tears) as I read the all too familiar stories about losing all your friends overnight and not knowing how to explain the whole sorry mess to other Christians. But most of all I have rejoiced with the testimonies of discovering God's love and faithfulness through the pain. Twenty years have gone by since I was freed from a group much smaller and less visible than GGWO yet it is still so much a part of who I am. And I still grieve over friends and family who have no idea what freedom in Christ is all about. FACTNet has been a wonderful forum to express our hearts to them as we hear from some that they do read it in spite of being ordered not to. But most of all, it has been great therapy for the wounded as we reconnect and tell our stories just as you are doing here. May God bless your efforts and bring healing to all of you! |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 9 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 12.45.124.231
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 8:38 pm: |
|
Walking out the back door into parking lot in South Berwick I faced a spiritual crisis. I was 24 years old and I had come to a crossroads, an intersection in my faith journey (I probably would have called it “my walk” back then). I had just come from Pastor Stevens’ “inner sanctum,” sometimes called “the holy of holies” half-jokingly. It was a plush office done in 70’s golds and shag, separated from the library by an “outer office” where the secretaries were. The secretaries guarded the door to the “inner sanctum” with their bodies and their lives. Not many people were invited into the inner sanctum, and those who were knew they were “special.” We were told many times with a smarmy over-sincerity, “You’re special.” That day I didn’t feel special. There were 5 or 6 others who were asked to stay behind in the inner office when the other 5 or 6 of us left. I didn’t like the office and I didn’t like its chief occupant, but I liked all the other people there, and I liked feeling special. Now, walking out while others were still there, I didn’t feel at all special. Going down the back stairs my mind ran amok. If I wasn’t special, what was I? Was I missing something? Was I not doing enough? Was my faith not good enough? What made those others special while I was not? I was blushing red with something between humiliation and shame when I came to the doorway out into the parking lot – out into the sun and into the fresh air. That inner office was so stuffy. Stepping across the threshold, I came to a crossroads. And there at the crossroads, at the very crux of my faith, a word came to me. I had memorized lots of scripture and just now a word came to me. “I am what I am by the grace of God.” I grinned and said to myself (one didn’t say such things aloud), “Well fuck it then. I have given my life to Christ and I don’t know what else I can do. So if grace is not sufficient for me then there is no hope anyway. So, to hell with it then. I’m going to go ahead with my faith the best I can and the inner circle and the inner sanctum be damned.” After that I didn’t care if somebody thought I was special or not. And I didn’t care if I was ever invited into the inner circle or inner office again. I was – plenty of times, but it never meant much to me again. It was just a place to do a radio broadcast or hear some report from a branch ministry. And from that day on I understood that unless God saved me by grace alone, I was going to hell in spite of being special. “So be it,” I thought. I related this story to a very dear friend not long ago. She told me a very similar story about a pivotal moment in her own journey. The journey out of oppressive religion into liberating faith is something like this I think. Somebody said in a post on this thread that I was “fortunate” to have gotten out of TBS when I did. “Graced” is the word I’d use (even though its one of those terrible nouns made to do duty as a verb). I wonder if everybody doesn’t have moments of grace along these lines – either in this life or the next. C.S. Lewis’ “The Great Divorce” has long been a favorite of mine. (Don’t worry about my theology – I’m okay ) |
   
deb (deb) Member Username: deb
Post Number: 54 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 4.154.200.167
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 8:44 pm: |
|
Thank you ALL for the stories. I am PROFOUNDLY moved by the honesty, introspection, and courage that I find here. I've got a couple of remembrances to share from a personal "journal" of sorts that I was inspired to start last Sept., when first finding this "place." Maybe I'll post more later, but this seems like a good place to start. SNAPPIMG I remember vividly when I “took the plunge,” so to speak. It was in July of 1975. I was into my second week of visiting my best friend, Louise, at her Bible College. My plan had been to stay with her for a while, perhaps the whole summer, and then return home to begin my sophomore year at Salem State College. It was during a Wednesday night service, held in the campus gymnasium of The Bible Speaks, that my fate was sealed. I remember looking around from my vantage point; enthusiastic smiling people were everywhere, close to a thousand perhaps, and for a small rural community in Southern Maine, that was a remarkable number. A few were well dressed, “smart” looking, some were elderly, but many were my peers and still bore traces of the hippie culture they’d once espoused and were in various stages of leaving. I liked most of these people, but I wasn’t quite buying the package. I wasn’t sure about Carl Stevens, or “Pastah” as everyone called him. I started crying. I recognized that this was it; I was either going to go home, which now meant, I believed, that I’d be leaving God’s perfect will for my life, or I was going to expel that nagging, skeptical voice inside my head by making a commitment to follow Jesus Christ 100%. I loved my family, and I’d had a good first year in college, but hadn’t Jesus said, in response to the man who wanted to say goodbye to his family before following Him, “Anyone who puts his hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God”? Had I been led here, to this place, by a living, loving, Almighty God? Everyone stood and started singing,with “Pastah” driving the crowd on, big smile, clenched fist making pounding motions on the podium: “Victory in Jesus, my Savior forever He sought me, and He bought me, With His redeeming blood” (I remained seated, bent over, crying, confused, “what am I doing here??? Something is wrong. Maybe it’s ME that’s wrong?”) “He loved me ‘ere I knew Him, Now all my love is due Him, He plunged me to victory, beneath the cleansing flood.” (A hand touched my back, encouraging me to join in the worship … words began flooding my mind … “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me ...”) “I heard an old, old story, How a Savior came from glory, How He gave His life on Calvary, To save a wretch like me.” (I lifted my head, silently prayed … “God did you bring me here? What do you want with a wretch like me …?”) “I heard about His groaning, Of His precious blood’s atoning, And I repented of my sins And won the victory.” (Up on my feet, tears streaming down my face ...) “Victory in Jesus, my Savior forever, He sought me, and He bought me, With His redeeming blood.” (Singing, clapping, so grateful, so very grateful...) “He loved me ‘ere I knew him Now all my love is due him,' (Of course, all my love is due him. What had I been afraid of?) He plunged me to victory, Beneath the cleansing flood.” (He’ll take care of everything else, if I just follow Him ...) I never went back home. Why would I? I’d found my new home, my new family, my new life. “Victory in Jesus!” PARTICIPATION IN MACHIAVELLIAN TACTIC Shortly after I took up residence at TBS, a friend from Salem State College arrived. He was concerned about me, as Christians at Salem State had informed him that The Bible Speaks was very cult-like, and was, quite possibly, a full-blown cult. I was happy to see Russ, and flattered that he’d cared enough to check on me. I was now thoroughly indoctrinated into my new life, and was eager to share with Russ all the wonderful truths I’d learned since committing myself to the Corporate Body of Christ under the headship of our “amazing” Pastor. Of course I was sure that God wanted him to become part of this “amazing” group also. Understandably, Russ was extremely skeptical and, quite plainly, horrified. He tried to reason with me initially, but other body members became suspicious of Russ’s intentions, and began running interference, keeping distance between Russ and myself, and letting the leadership know of this potential problem. Stevens took me aside, privately, and asked me about Russ. He wanted to know what was holding Russ back from becoming one with the Body. I told him everything I knew, including an experience that Russ had shared with me: a few months earlier, Russ had gone to hear Bob Mumford preach in Boston, and he had been very impressed and inspired by the man, and confided in me that he might like to join Mumford’s organization someday. A couple of mornings later, Stevens gathered a group of about 30 early morning risers, Russ and I included, and initiated a spontaneous prayer circle on the lawn. After leading us in prayer for several minutes, he said to Russ, “God has given me a ‘gift of knowledge’ for you. He wants you to know that He understands how inspired you’ve been by Bob Mumford, but He also wants you to know that He has led you here because this is His calling for you, and this is where you can truly serve Him.” Everyone around Russ began praising God for this wonderful, personal revelation of how much God loved Russ, and Russ was deeply moved to think that God Almighty loved him enough to reveal Himself to him in this supernatural way. And what did I do? I joined right in. Even though I was a newcomer, I knew exactly what was expected of me. I would remain silent about my private conversation with Carl Stevens, and would allow Russ to believe that it was a miracle. And really, wasn’t it? After all, if Carl Stevens, “God’s man,” was going out of his way for Russ, then wasn’t that truly an act of love from our Heavenly Father? What did it matter if the situation was being manipulated to appear miraculous, the bottom line was, Russ would stay and become part of the Corporate Body. And “all’s well that ends well,” when the end justifies the means. (I was always a quick learner.) (If you’re reading this, Russ, I can not tell you how sorry I am for the part I played in this deceptive manipulation. Reading these stories, and factnet in general, has brought back many memories, and this is one that shames me deeply. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me ….. (sigh) Deb |
   
bonniescott (bonniescott) Junior Member Username: bonniescott
Post Number: 29 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 63.22.105.170
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 8:58 pm: |
|
Where was God? I ask this because this is a question that I've asked most of my life. If God exists where was he when we as young innocents we wandered into this cult, got sucked in and so badly abused/taken advantage of, all for the love of God. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 389 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 69.205.241.130
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 9:12 pm: |
|
Words from the pen of Bobby O: My first time. Everyone remembers their first time. Sorry if this disappoints you but the “first time” I’m referring to was when Lana and I first attempted to leave the “body.” It was sometime early in 1974 when I was spending my days at Northeast School of the Bible; my evenings from 3:30 to midnight working at Prime Tanning; my Saturdays knocking on doors for bus ministry; and Sunday we went to church in S. Berwick in the am, Scarborough in the afternoon and back to S. Berwick in the evening and followed it all up with a steaming pile of “rap.” What a life! Lana and I lived in one room as did lots of other couples, even after we had children. There was a hallway in that building where people used to hang. It may well have been the inspiration for Spielberg’s bar scene in “Star Wars” as well as the cast for “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest!” We were tired, stressed out, under fed (although Dan and Kathy Lewis treated us to lots of lunches and dinners for which I’ll always be thankful!), and we both knew we had to get away. We decided to split and spend a little time in the lost- but much needed- art of pondering. We hopped in the car and headed to Vermont, back to where Lana went to school at Dr. Bruce Morgan’s Winterhill. We stayed at a little motel in the Shelburn Birches, just outside Gorham, NH. And felt happy and free, as though we’d just escaped from prison. After the fog cleared we decided to go back and tell the Pastor we wanted to move on. I was going to get a job outside of Portland with my brother-in-law; we’d get an apartment; and have the baby Lana was carrying. (Who, by the way, is a beautiful 31 year old daughter named Johanna who turned out to be a cum laude university graduate and an artist who runs her own business and is getting married this summer – for the first time – to a guy who we think the world of. – Not being one who writes Christmas form letters, please indulge me as I express some parental pride!!) However, when we met with Pastor Stevens and elders of the church we were told in no uncertain terms that we were “off” - That any leading that would take us away from the church was not a leading from the Lord and if we did leave after the leadership told us not to, then all hell would break loose in our lives. All of the positive energy, hope and enthusiasm we gained for each other and our life while we were in Vermont was discouraged, deflated and marginalized. We were even told that we’d been deceived by an angel of Light. I don’t think I need to tell you about the confusion and self-doubt that followed. Shame on me for not standing up to those guys. But you have to remember all confidence in myself and in my ability to make independent decisions had been systematically undermined by hours of indoctrination. How could “I” possibly challenge Pastor Stevens? After all, look at who he was – well, the truth is, look at who he was!!! I hadn’t yet looked behind the curtain to find out that the Wizard of Oz was a short, bald guy whose insecurities were so entwined with his ego that there was no room left for concern about helping a kid get back home to Kansas. By the way, my friends, don’t be afraid of literature and myths. The truth has many forms. It took a few more attempts to make the final break-out. What we couldn’t accomplish as individuals or a couple we were eventually able to accomplish with a posse – Thanks Bruder, Silent Mo (I know you’re lurking), Quin, Eric Hoffer, Jess Lair, Thomas Merton & Lao Tzu... |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 109 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 9:48 pm: |
|
I sat at my Mother's funeral in February of 1978. She died at the age of 51. A couragous woman ravaged by diebetes. My two sisters sat next to me and as the minister spoke of Lazarus and the resurrection I thought of another funeral I would attend the next day. Barbara Stevens had passed away. Another couragous woman who died to young. Steve Quinlan and I had been asked by Pastor Stevens to do the memorial service in West Sumner. I left my families grief (and my own) in a shadowless haze. Once there we drove with PS to Worthly Pond, the church where he preached his first sermon. A tour of sorts. We saw family members and old church members (enemies/marked) even then. At the service PS leaned over to Steve and I and said, "Remember, our enemies are here. Tell them how big the ministry has grown, how many students are in the Bible School, the number of branch ministies we have and the number of countries we are in." I believe Steve spoke first. Thoughtful words of grace and loss. No mention of PS's request. I stood and spoke. I don't remember the words but I remember the audience. I was nervous (a word not generally associated with me except at motor vehicle) and neglected to tell the story of success. When I sat down PS leaned over to Steve and I and said, "If you can't honor the ministry I will." He then spoke about his wife Barbara and...the growth of the ministry, the number of countries TBS was in, the number of branch ministies....I was horrified. Not at PS's incantation but at my own disobedience. After the service I drove to W. Paris and down Route 26 dazed. 2 funerals in 3 days...and I had disappointed PS. There was this sense of absence. An absence that condemns. A movement toward nothing. Then somehow something stirred. A poetic shift that was just a slight glance out of the corner of my eye. A sort of Bad Moon Rising. Something was wrong. And, isn't that always the first work of grace? And, call it grace or a moment of clarity or general fuckedupness but I sensed that PS was wrong. 2 years later this would be said out loud in front of Shermahorn by Bobbie O in a different setting then Steve Q told. (A sort of Al Pacino line "NO YOU ARE OUT OF ORDER YOUR HONOR, THIS COURT IS OUT OF ORDER...) But, in this moment the soul stirred and the shadow abroad. Clarity receded. I pulled into a gas station in my white volvo. Within moments a 1977 Silver Lincoln pulled in next to me. PS walked up to me and apologized. Said he was over come with grief and that Steve and I had spoken well. We talked for a few minutes and he left. I went into the store and bought a 16 ounce Miller High Life. Or maybe it was 3. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 392 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 69.205.241.130
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 9:56 pm: |
|
You go, Martin. Love it when your Papermate flies! As I've said before...you just do it, if you don't then I'll be disappointed to find that CHS was right and you are "off" !!!!!!!!!!!!! Great telling of the story! |
   
isabella (isabella) Intermediate Member Username: isabella
Post Number: 242 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.31.11.230
| | Posted on Thursday, April 07, 2005 - 10:40 pm: |
|
Marty/Bruder5, Thanks. Isabella |
   
jayso (jayso) New member Username: jayso
Post Number: 10 Registered: 4-2005 Posted From: 69.205.150.205
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 1:51 am: |
|
Deb, yours and other's stories here have moved me and helped me see how God's GRACE has been with us since we were saved! For many on this board, growing in GRACE and knowledge of HIM may not have come about by the SSB, but by the "Stevens School of Hard Knocks"! (Rom. 8:28) Pastor Quinlan, THANK YOU for letting us see the real you through your posts. I had a bad impression of you at TBS and didn't know that you had an inner struggle with certain things CHS said and did. Thanks for the candor. |
   
bjerwin (bjerwin) Intermediate Member Username: bjerwin
Post Number: 176 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 65.32.100.94
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 1:58 am: |
|
Here I am... up at 1:51 AM reading magic. If I had never gone to TBS/GGWO, I would never have known folks like Quin, Bobbie, Lana...etc. (was blessed to know Deb and Martin before)...So even the wacko stuff mentioned in this thread was so worth it to have been able to have these dear wacko pilgrims in my life. Garth Brooks sang: And now I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd of had to miss the dance Holding you I held everything For a moment wasn't I a king But if I'd only known how the king would fall Hey who's to say you know I might have chanced it all And now I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd of had to miss the dance Yes my life is better left to chance I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance Thanks for these dance numbers, Quin, Bobby, Marty, Deb. Damn I am so very lucky. (Message edited by bjerwin on April 08, 2005) |
   
whitehorses (whitehorses) Intermediate Member Username: whitehorses
Post Number: 183 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 205.188.117.72
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 10:46 am: |
|
I mean, you can’t be sinning unless you know that it is a sin, can you? ================================================= well.. that is like telling the officer you didnt know you were speeding because you didnt see the sign back there.... does it mean you didnt break the law because you didnt know? |
   
aurora (aurora) Member Username: aurora
Post Number: 100 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.30.49.45
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 10:57 am: |
|
Can anyone tell us the story of the first Barbara Stevens? Was she close with anyone in the ministry? What was her illness like for her children and CHS? I don't recall ever even seeing her except in a (very sixties) picture on an old Stevens Family album cover. |
   
whatsup (whatsup) Junior Member Username: whatsup
Post Number: 30 Registered: 2-2005 Posted From: 64.12.116.9
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 11:12 am: |
|
What I remember about the first Barbara Stevens was that she was a very down to earth person. I remember once I was working up at Schermerhorn and she was in the lobby, waiting for him I guess. She started talking to me about how she had to go shopping for shoes for her husband, and how he just let his shoes wear down and it was hard to get him to have time to go with her. It was such an ordinary image of Pastor Stevens that struck me at the time because we all had him up on such a pedestal. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 400 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 11:20 am: |
|
Well, I can tell you that she was an old-Maine, good natured, incredibly kind woman. She raised her own large family, adopted a child and took care of Lewellyn - an old man with significant physical and mental difficulties. She had cancer and, I believe that is what was the official cause of death. I know a couple of stories that are just too painful to share...but in my memory she remains a woman of substance in regards to how she valued others. |
   
jim_faucett (jim_faucett) Intermediate Member Username: jim_faucett
Post Number: 334 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 66.90.181.249
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 11:34 am: |
|
Excerpted: "One evening I found myself walking back to Carl Stevens’s home alone with him. He lived in the house at the top of the hill at the back of the school property. When we arrived at his house, I invited myself in and sought guidance in the relationship. The only thing I could do was to profess undying love for this woman, who had been in the church for many years and had served in Germany as a missionary. Carl paced back and forth across the kitchen floor, as I rattled on about the relationship. Barbara Stevens, who passed away in the late 70s, was also present watching the proceedings. The more I talked, the more Carl paced. Finally, Barbara said, “Why don’t you stand still? You can be the most aggravating man to try to talk to!” Despite her presence in the background, Barbara Stevens was a wonderful person. Her trials during those years defy description, and someone who knows her better than I would have to bring them to light." Sometime in late '72 Barbara Stevens disappeared from the 'parsonage' at Wiscasset. Carl Stevens assigned Margaret Redden, Lisa Hughes (now Schaller) and I to take the LTD and search for her. We drove all over S. Maine looking for her. The disappearance was attributed to her illness. She left word with noone where she was going or how long she would be away--but it was very evident that CHS was very concerned. It turned out that she had gone to W. (?) Sumner to visit family. As I remember, Barbara Stevens would rather be home with the family or with one friend than be anywhere near Carl's limelight. I don't remember a single 'rap' or after service event that Barbara Stevens attended. Not long ago, I was told that when she saw the throngs gathering around Carl she would grab the arm of one special friend and say, "Let's you and I go have coffee together" and off they would go. The other really vivid memory I have of Barbara was when she and Patty Huff had plastic surgery done by Lee Hartman on their noses--that they had to sport bandages for sometime and had black eyes. Hartman also did Carl's first hair operation and removed whistlin' Don Robson's back tumor. The first Barbara was sweet lady who was loved by her close friends. |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 813 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 11:37 am: |
|
Absolutely Alanna! What I am about to share was told publically, so I will "reshare" it. Paul shared a story at a RAP once about when he and his brothers were teens. Steve coroborated and elaborated on it once. It goes like this. It seems that their Dad took them to the barbershop every spring to get them a summer "buzz." The boys wanted to be in style, so they did not want a "buzz," they wanted to have "longush" hair. But they complied, except for Steve, he came out and it was too long. So their Dad sent him in again. Again it was too long, so Dad went in with him and it was finally satisfactory. Steve was embarassed, but his hair was acceptable. They both said that their mother was very quiet most of the way home, but at one point she turned towards CHS and said, "You were wrong!" Then turned back to teh front and did not say anotehr word. But both Paul and Steve said that was the last summer they had to get a "buzz." Really speaks of the character of this woman of God. |
   
steve_quinlan (steve_quinlan) New member Username: steve_quinlan
Post Number: 10 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 70.59.36.120
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 11:42 am: |
|
Jayso: I too often had a bad impression of me in those days -- and I knew about my inner struggles. |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 346 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 12:04 pm: |
|
Personally, this is my very favorite thread on FACTNet. Thank you so much Steve for starting it and for your stories. Thank you so much to everyone who is telling their own personal story. We're ALL in the BIG story together. |
   
washburndunc (washburndunc) New member Username: washburndunc
Post Number: 19 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.91.134.144
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 12:11 pm: |
|
I believe it was Ravi Zacharias that said (or quoted someone else), 'Time doesn't heal; time reveals that God heals.' [not an exact quote - doesn't sound as profound the way I put it.] |
   
whitehorses (whitehorses) Intermediate Member Username: whitehorses
Post Number: 185 Registered: 1-2005 Posted From: 205.188.117.72
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 12:43 pm: |
|
this is my favorite thread too .. maybe it was ravi shankar wash! lol |
   
whocaresanymore (whocaresanymore) Junior Member Username: whocaresanymore
Post Number: 35 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 141.157.118.156
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:14 pm: |
|
I want to thank you for the memories of my mother. She was a hard working woman, very real in everything she did. I have thought a lot about her lately. She went through a lot in her life and she deserves everything she is getting in Heaven today. The story about the hair-cuts is not completely true. My father is the one who gave us the hair-cuts, at the beginning of every summer. He called them, "Harvards." My mother did step in for us. I have never heard the term, "longush" before. That certainly did not come from Maine. Anyways, thank you. I have not looked here for quite sometime, as it is to painful. I do not know how you all can talk about these things so much without experiencing pain. I will not be writing here much and I am not in a place where I want to enter in on all of the questions and opinions. I hope you understand. Paul |
   
ralphwells (ralphwells) Advanced Member Username: ralphwells
Post Number: 818 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 162.129.192.133
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:16 pm: |
|
It is a beautiful spring afternoon in the Berkshires as I walk up the hill from the tennis courts towards Shermahorn. Flowers are blooming! Birds are singing. Kathleen and I are making our plans to go to South America after graduation. I am absolutely in love with God, and He, without a doubt loves me! Things could not be more perfect! What could possibly happen to dampen my spirits? Uh oh! Who is that I see working in the flower beds. Oh no, it is Miriam! Many people, myself included, have been investing extra measures of love into her over the past winter, and all she does if gross and grumble. Why, the last time I said hello to her she nearly took my head off. I will just ignore her today, she will probably have a better day, and I certainly will! I am just about clear, in a moment I will be around the corner. "Good afternoon Ralph." Who is that lilting voice, I hear speaking? "How are you today?" Miriam continued. I cannot believe my ears and what they ar ehearing! Nor my eyes that are taking in Miriam's big grin. We exchange a few pleasantries, I wave and say "Have a great day Miriam." She returns, "You too Ralph." and as I continue on my way she returns to her flower beds. As I continue on I am thinking, "God what a wonderful Body we have here. The investment of your people paid eternal dividends in Miriam's life. Thank you Father." |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 701 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 64.12.116.9
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:16 pm: |
|
The following is not a story not a dream. I have been a dreamer of dreams my whole life, vivid, detailed dreams. But this is the only one I have written down. It was so intense, and at the time I did not understand it. Until just recently I forgot about it. Many already know my story. I attempted to leave TBS/GGWO many many times. My husband was a pastor since 1982 and struggled with leaving. In 2001, I did leave but my family did not. I was slandered, marked and shunned. And in unbearable grief, I started this four year journey of understanding of how this could happen. I researched cults and befriended experts, found FACTNet with a GGWO thread with 5 posts and started writing. I obtained the CRI report and the old newspaper articles and spent months convincing my family we were in a cultic church. I connected the present situation of CHS's drug abuse and cover up to the past such as the "81 Exodus" and the "Dovydenas time." And it worked! So we sent postcards to hundreds in the church. Explaining Spiritual Abuse and offering Watchman Fellowship's Spiritual Abuse Hotline and Factnet website. I did this because I could not just walk away. I could see the whole system of TBS/GGWO worked for so many years because it silenced the voices of those who departed very effectively. All those voices who tried to speak, who tried to bring reform, were not heard over the "wall" of this closed system. But now we have the Internet.. I saw it as a way to break the "wall." We, as a small but growing group, have broken down the walls. There is something very poetic that it is the voices, long silenced.. wonderful men and women who were supposed to be gone and forgotten... have come back. The stories tell the truth. The stories.. our story has done something most cult experts say is impossible. And then I remembered this dream from 1999, a dream I was told, in the dream, to remember it. I think our voices are the raised and joined hands of a few.. a few doing something very powerful. Please keep writing... January 23, 1999 3:12am Jean Byrne God woke me up with this dream, don't completely understand it so I am writing it out. I was with a group of students, we didn't know each other personally but we were all on a journey and we were captives. But we really didn't understand what was happening, we traveled on foot through many city streets. The feeling was one of impending doom. There was one man in the group, who looked normal, but was really in charge, but didn't overtly show us he was leading us. In the dream to show me who he was and how we all had ended up on this strange journey and ultimate battle. It showed him in his room with a tiny pet pig who he kissed (the little pig had huge sad eyes and moved a little bit and sort of shuttered and then just stood still as if paralyzed), he then went into another room where a couple lived. The guy took no notice of him in the room, it seemed normal to have someone invade your room. The girl reacted normally also and went with him and was now with us all. So we traveled a long time and ended up in this auditorium, all standing. We knew this was some final battle but we sensed defeat. All of the sudden the "normal man" took on features of a demon and this roaring sound was heard and the daylight turned to darkness lit up by fire. We were all afraid and thought he was the "top" demon and it was all over for us all. But he turned and said "Though I've been leading you, I'm not the leader, but turn away from me and look over there." We turned to the front, the noise roared louder, the darkness lit by fire grew brighter and there stood an angel with wings with lots of blond hair, his skin glowed as white but was charred, it was Lucifer. We all stood stunned, this was Satan and the "normal" man had deceived us. Then the person in front of me lifted her hands, I did the same, then many did. But Satan stood there, with a mocking, commanding authority. The person in front of me turned to me and we joined hands and raised them, others did the same, until we were all together joined, but it snaked around because not all had raised their hands and they stood as "the normal man" alone with their hands dropped straight to their sides. So we with hands joined and held high, raised our voices and sang praises to God. Lucifer became angry, but we were not afraid but were filled with joy. The room turned golden and the people had been set free through the joined strength of a few. It was over, Lucifer was gone! But the Holy Spirit in my dream made me go back over the section of the dream concerning the pig and said I didn't fully understand it. So the dream replayed. I went back to where the "normal man" was kissing the pig (like he loved him) but again the pig looked up to me with sad eyes as before and he shuttered again, but this time he shuttered longer and harder and fell over and split apart and I realized everything inside was gone and though the little pig looked fine on the outside, nothing was left on the inside. The Holy Spirit like a guide says, "See, it is a guinea pig and he has been used as an experiment and if anything more is taken from him he will die. This is very important dream.. always remember it. I am not trying to imply anything except this: No matter what our experience was in TBS/GGWO. No matter how long it took us to get out, the unseen world, God or what you believe, was with us also. Bonniescott you asked where was God in all of this? He was right there. The TBS/GGWO was made by a man.. maybe a man with a twisted pathos. He made choices to feed his pathology as the years went on. We made choices also, we were drawn in deceptively but I know other friends who met the ministry back then and did not join. God was still present with each of us. Bonnie, you were a child and it was the choices of your parents and there was nothing you could do about it. Mind control and abuse are not God's doing but man's. But He was with us.. compelling us to leave, whispering in the depths of our hearts something was very wrong. Each story on this thread shares that commonality. Steve Quinlan rocking his baby, Marty at Barbara Steven's funeral, Karen marching up to Berkshire Christian for answers. He spoke to us in quietness or perhaps a dream... I think our shared stories is a wonderful picture of the persevering spirit of mankind. Who would ever think back when they exited that we would reunite once again.. reconnecting with joy? Who would have thought we could have a powerful impact on the future of the church which rejected us and cast us out? God is the Master Storyteller, and this story, our story is not finished yet... |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 349 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:38 pm: |
|
Whocaresanymore, Hi Paul, it's great to see you post. I have very fond memories of you back in Lenox. We didn't exactly hang around each other all that much, but we were the same age and I could relate to you in a way, even from a distance. I did NOT envy the expectations that must have been on your life as the son of the leader. I remember your mother being a very sweet and sensitive woman who always gave me a big smile whenever I saw her. God bless you Paul, Joe Hanson |
   
whocaresanymore (whocaresanymore) Junior Member Username: whocaresanymore
Post Number: 36 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 141.157.118.156
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:42 pm: |
|
Thanks Joe. I remember you also. Glad to see you are doing good. Thank you for the encouragement. I do not want to disrupt the flow of stories here. I was just touched by the thoughts and memories. Feel free to write me if you want. You can get my email address from Jeannie. I would rather not post it here for obvious reasons. |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 702 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 64.12.116.9
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:47 pm: |
|
Hi Paul, Someday it won't be so painful for you. Maybe by August less so.. and maybe you and Barb would come to the reunion? You would be so welcome.. do you know that? Jeannie |
   
whocaresanymore (whocaresanymore) Junior Member Username: whocaresanymore
Post Number: 37 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 141.157.118.156
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:51 pm: |
|
I can't quite imagine that at this time. I love and miss the friends, but I don't want to fellowship about things concerning my family and the pains of the past. |
   
lee (lee) Intermediate Member Username: lee
Post Number: 422 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.60.213.249
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:51 pm: |
|
whocaresanymore....Paul, We care. I think thats part of the reason we keep posting. We need each other. Apart from all the 'stuff' that happened to us and around us for the years we were 'in', one thing we certainly had happen to us, is that God knit our hearts together, and although many of us have left, some stumbled and fell, we got up and found God and each other. We are discovering everyday the gift God gave us in each other. To me, you are part of us. I understand your recluctance to dive right in, but to me, you have been quite the courageous man to even speak to us! Many of us have discovered a full, rich and generous life after TBS or GGWO and have hearts ful of gratitude as well as a supply of stories and attitudes. Some stories are helpful to us and others to tell, sometimes, it's good to get things off our hearts and well, its just plain fun to talk to each other! I can understand that it may be painful for you to continue here, but you are always welcome. |
   
herroyalhighness (herroyalhighness) Intermediate Member Username: herroyalhighness
Post Number: 404 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 24.97.250.114
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:54 pm: |
|
Paul - Your mother to me was wonderfully human - she was warm without being sticky-sweet and insincere. I remember watching her sing in service and having the sense that she was really worshipping from the center of her being, rather than trying to call attention to her talent. I don't remember her saying mean-spirited things about anyone. Perhaps I was just young and didn't see her faults (course, we all have some) but to me she was just...well...solid and good. My best to your Barbara, Alanna |
   
cape_cod (cape_cod) Intermediate Member Username: cape_cod
Post Number: 350 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 24.198.73.25
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 2:56 pm: |
|
Paul, I know exactly what you mean, as I do NOT post my email address here either. I'll get your address from Jeannie. I was just thinking, I met you 29 years ago. Man, time sure does fly. It'll be good to catch up. Talk to you soon. |
   
whocaresanymore (whocaresanymore) Junior Member Username: whocaresanymore
Post Number: 38 Registered: 12-2004 Posted From: 141.157.118.156
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 3:00 pm: |
|
She did have her faults, but she believed the best and hoped for the best. I think of the character of her life and find it rare today. Thank you, Alanna. I understand that everyone has to deal with things differently. For me, I need to be quiet to hear from my Lord. I do not know why I am here today, to be honest with you. Much of what I have seen here, I do not agree with. I am sure many could say the same about me. Thank you, Lee, for extending the hand. I appreciate it. |
   
doris (doris) Intermediate Member Username: doris
Post Number: 446 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 172.170.172.93
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 3:01 pm: |
|
I have gone back and forth with wanting to post my story on here. I think I am going to go for it. I will probably have to break it up in many parts. Part One We were living up in the suburbs of Philadelphia at the time I met the ministry on the internet in a Christian chat room (GCN). I had came down with a virus called Epstein Barr. I was very ill, the doctor told me it was a condition that was untreatable. He encouraged me to go online to find a cure if I didn't believe him. So that is exactly what I did. It was my first time online, never really turned on a computer before. I ended up in a Christian chatroom full of nuts. In the midst of the nuts were two women who seemed to be very doctrinally sound. Over a period of months they kept inviting me to come visit their church. They said an awesome play would be going on in the Spring. My husband and I decided to visit. We left our two sons home initially and went down to Baltimore for the weekend. I was not sure if it was a whacky cult and didn't want to bring my sons without us visiting first. We attended the play and a Sunday service. The love of the body was incredible and the play was all they said it would be, although there was some strange terminiology used that I never heard before. My sons were not yet saved, both being visual learners I knew they would see this play and get saved. We drove home Sunday night. The play was extended for one more day so we drove down through a freak April 1st blizzard to see the play again. The entire way down to the play I had a nagging voice inside of my head screaming at me: "What kind of mother are you driving in these conditions? Your children can get saved anywhere!" I ignored the voice and continued on. Both my sons did get saved that night. I was on cloud nine. It took us four hours to get home that night, the driving conditions were treachorous. I can't help but look back and wonder how symbolic the weather was. How far will God go to warn us? I should have listened. But I had many telling me it was the enemy trying to prevent me from going to GGWO. But my heart was telling me it was God. That was the beginning of our being drawn into the ministry. the next several months would involve many trips back and forth to GGWO. We were already attending a church but that church didn't believe in evangelism and was not interested in helping the poor and needy - a call both my husband and I had and still do. We didn't want to join GGWO because of the distance. Baltimore was 90 minutes away with no traffic. I can't remember what seminar we were planning on going to, maybe a marriage one? We were very excited prior. The week before the seminar my husband was in a major car accident and totalled our car. A few days later a huge oak tree crashed down on our property, taking out high voltage lines, wiping out 3,700 electric customers and creating thousands of dollars in damage. At the time the tree fell I would have been under it but got distracted by mother duty. Back then I thought these tragedies were the enemy preventing us from traveling to GGWO, but now I see it was probably God. One day, while driving through Newark, taking a shortcut to my brother's house, my son looked over and saw a little white church on the corner. He says, "Mommy, is that Pastor Stevens' Greater Grace Church?" A phone call to my friend confirmed it was an affiliate. We decided to visit. On the way home from visiting we prayed and talked the whole way home and decided that this was the church God wanted us to be. More to come.... |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 110 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 3:45 pm: |
|
Doris--Epstein Barr, Christian Chatrooms, freak winter storms, car accident, trees falling in the yard...power gone and you've hardly arrived at church yet...wonderful story...HBO ought to buy the rights... |
   
wj_hunt_big_bird (wj_hunt_big_bird) New member Username: wj_hunt_big_bird
Post Number: 15 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 68.68.154.197
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 4:05 pm: |
|
hey paul, i am really glad to hear from you.I always considered you a good friend and i remember fondly the times playing basketball with you and the team. I also remember your mother very well as i come from the same area i also know her family. I lost my dad in 94 and it was real hard for me to deal with so i can imagine that you must think of your mother as i do my dad.I am aware of some of the painful things that you have gone through and believe me i have done some terrible things that have been very painful to me also. don't want to ramble too much,just know that i do care and still consider you a good friend. Take care and maybe we will meet again someday. one on one, I will kick your butt, ha,ha Wishing you all the best, Bill (birdman) Hunt |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 703 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 152.163.100.9
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 4:12 pm: |
|
and Bruder/Marty that is only the beginning of the story! Hold on to your hat.. we are in for a wild ride! Go Doris! |
   
ericlaw (ericlaw) New member Username: ericlaw
Post Number: 16 Registered: 3-2005 Posted From: 82.96.75.4
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 9:27 pm: |
|
bjerwin, That is incredible that you posted the lyrics to "The Dance". Here is a recent story regarding this song... My precious daughter is dancing to this song for her first ballet recital. She came home from practice last Tuesday with her costume; they had been on order for weeks. It is so little and delicate, pink with pastel sequins and a lacey skirt. I insisted she try it on for me...tears filled my eyes when I saw that little princess. My wife retrieved a tape that the instructor made that has "The Dance" recorded on it. We turned the lights down and she takes her position. Now the Dance starts. The sight of my daughter’s little figure performing all these moves that they have been practicing for weeks and the words to this song are just breaking my heart. Tears are streaming down my face; I look to my wife and the same thing. And now I'm glad I didn't know The way it all would end the way it all would go Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain But I'd of had to miss the dance I forgot something to tell you, this is the night I had my conversation with the last elder on my list to talk to. I’ll just say the meeting didn’t go well; I informed them of my concerns and that we will be attending another church. Tonight is the night it really hits home that God is taking us out of GGWO. My wife and I have over 30 years combined in this ministry. That’s a lot of time and a whole lot of life. After the dance is over and the kids were in bed, we reflected on our lives, our friends our calling. The Dance was so meaningful. We gladly took this path and would do it again for that Dance. The Dance is: being with the Body, forming my walk with God, Meeting and marrying my wife, 3 children blessing the Body and being invested in by them and so much more. I am glad I didn’t know how it would go or how it would end; if I would have I am sure I would have avoided the pain. This Dance however painful the end, has been sweet. We wept all night. (Message edited by ericlaw on April 15, 2005) |
   
jeannie (jeannie) Advanced Member Username: jeannie
Post Number: 704 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 152.163.100.9
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 9:45 pm: |
|
Dear Sir, Your post is quite heartbreaking. All I can say is I have been in your place, my family also. I can also say in spite of the heartache and the grief, the marking and the shunning that occurred, the Presence of Him only became stronger. We are with you Ericlaw and your family, you are not "doing" leaving alone. And if you tried any of the suggested churches then you found us in person also. Will you be attending the open forum on Sunday night? I am interested but I can not go, it is too painful to return. It would seem no matter what happens, GGWO no longer exists anymore. Maybe God will have you helping others after all the dust settles. |
   
bruder5 (bruder5) Intermediate Member Username: bruder5
Post Number: 111 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 205.209.70.203
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 9:56 pm: |
|
ericlaw- Huxley once noted "My fate cannot be mastered; it can only be collaborated with and thereby, to some extent, directed. Nor am I the captain of my soul; I am only its noisiest passenger." Your story has an elegant beauty. |
   
yogi (yogi) Intermediate Member Username: yogi
Post Number: 424 Registered: 11-2004 Posted From: 63.27.21.180
| | Posted on Friday, April 08, 2005 - 10:05 pm: |
|
ericlaw, are you pastor Law who had the prison ministry at GGWO? What courage you have sir to take a stand, my hat is off to you with the deepest respect imaginable for standing up for truth. Yogi |
    | |