TEACHING

Daryl Wood

(Daryl is a fivefold teacher on our apostolic team, a "beloved son in whom I am well-pleased.")

DON’T DRINK THE KOOL AID!

(Part 3) Autobiography

DON’T DRINK THE KOOL AID! Teaching Series - Read [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6 ]

In Part Two, I provided a brief description of a famous psychological experiment, which has grave and important implications with respect to the typical human response to authority figures. Milgrim’s study reveals a very frightening aspect of the nature of man, which plays into his innate vulnerability to cultic influence:

Upon reviewing the results of his experiment, Milgrim noted that when ordered to ". . . carry out actions incompatible with fundamental standards of morality, relatively few people have the resources to resist authority."

As one who has personally been a participant in what I now recognize to be a "Christian cult," I will outline in this article:

Some of the aspects of my psychological and spiritual make-up that made me particularly open to such exploitation,

The main events that transpired during my involvement with the cult,

The interpersonal dynamics within the cult which worked to keep me in the abusive system, and

The means that God has used for my ultimate deliverance and ongoing healing from this destructive process.

In concurrence with Milgrim, I admit that under the sway of a controlling authority figure and social pressure from the group I became both the "victimizer" and the "victimized". I squelched the Holy Spirit’s inner witness, giving preference instead to the intimidating voice of one whom I considered to be God’s ordained authority in my life. I was not alone. I cannot recollect witnessing a single instance when any individual who upheld the truth in resistance challenged the leader, to whom I will assign the alias, "George", in open forum. There were occasions where an entrenched family or single person would quietly choose to disconnect from the group and withdraw. These happenings, though rare, were usually accompanied by a scandalous report that circulated within the group, completely discrediting the deserter.

The following account of George’s group does not square with any traditional definition of a cult, as far as I can determine. However, I maintain that our understanding of cult institutions must be broadened, so that we can more fully identify them in practice and avoid their influence in our lives. I will more fully develop this theme later in the body of the article, along with an explanation of the term, "Christian cult" as viewed by this author.

1) Aspects of my psychological and spiritual make-up that made me susceptible to cultic influence

In my case, and probably in that of most others involved in cults, the groundwork for my susceptibility to its influence began to be established during childhood. Growing up with a physically and emotionally abusive father, it became only natural to unconsciously attribute to my Heavenly Father those same warped behaviors and attitudes under which I had suffered as a child. While I found it easy to pray to Jesus, the notion of addressing God as "Father" was both threatening and repulsive. I distinctly remember the first time that I attempted to do so. I felt a lump swell up in my throat, and it was only with great effort that I was able to eek out the word, "Father".

To a young one, a father is the most tangible blueprint that he has to work with as he formulates his picture of God. Since fathers typically personify "authority" to their children more than any other figure, it is understandable that little ones quickly draw generalized associations between their paternal example and other authorities.

These connections continue to exert a strong influence even as one advances into adulthood. This is especially evident as those who embrace Christ relate with leaders who stand in a place of spiritual fatherhood. By extension, a similar parallel is established between the nuclear family into which one is born and grows, and the spiritual family that one now calls "church".

While adults may not even consider the powerful links that their present relationships tend to have with their early familial ones, the implications are still pervasive and far-reaching. Add to this predisposition the subconscious tendency to actually try to recreate those early familiar surroundings within our adult landscapes, and we have the perfect set-up for an abuse cycle that is self-sustaining. The result can be an angry "relational tornado", howbeit one that seems "normal" and even peculiarly "comfortable". Beneath the surface of my awareness I was motivated to seek out a spiritual "dad" who represented my earthly father, as well as the twisted picture that he had provided me of the Heavenly One. I likewise sought a spiritual "family" that was a reproduction of what I had experienced. Some of these unconscious draws were positive; I desired in my then adult relationships many of the same good and virtuous qualities that I had come to esteem as a youth. Some things that I was attracted to in others, however, were not positive.

While I did not value tension, anger, control, intimidation, mistreatment, etc., when I viewed these attributes independently they were, nonetheless, a part of the total package. Hence, as a collective whole, these, along with the composite of other familiar personality traits, held for me a certain resonance. My interactions with people "fitting the profile" confirmed those same interpersonal behavior patterns between others and me that I had come to associate with "ordinary, healthy living". As with a plumb line in a carnival house of mirrors, my perspective was skewed. Being oblivious to this, familiarity won out.

Approximately six months prior to graduating from Bible school, when I was 23 years old, I met George. He was the pastor of some of my fellow students at the school, and had flown into town to pay them a visit. Instantly we enjoyed a strong intellectual connection and friendship. He was an articulate man with keen insight into the Scriptures, who was passionate about the things of God. George was an immensely gifted Bible teacher, and I soon discovered that he had pioneered down the trail of some of the very same doctrinal issues and questions that I had pursued. Independent of one another, we amazingly had come to many of the same conclusions on an assortment of topics. I found that his grasp of biblical understanding transcended that of most of my peers and even my instructors at Bible school. Being about 10 years my senior and having what I instantly recognized as greater spiritual maturity than I, George seemed the ideal mentor.

Upon graduation I decided to join him in the ministry. I packed my belongings into my automobile, and moved several states away. This was a new beginning for me—a new community in an area of the country in which I had never lived, a brand new set of relationships, and a brand new occupational role. It was also my introduction to public ministry. While I was not placed on the payroll with a salary, I was given venue to teach regularly within regular church meetings and church-sponsored home groups, and I was compensated through love offerings.

Like many young men who complete a theology course study, I had a wealth of Bible theory, but relatively little actual experience in Christ to match. Being gifted with a quick mind, I readily grasped biblical truths. However, I was much slower when it came to being a doer of the Word. As I was soon to learn, I also lacked a great deal of the practical wisdom that is so necessary to function as a responsible adult. While my acumen had secured for me an attractive veneer that seemed to suggest maturity, it had actually served to cover some glaring deficiencies in my personal development. I was in no way prepared for the "spiritual boot camp" into which I was about to embark—nor was I ready for the abrupt exposure of those deficiencies.

What I did see was that George was strong, intense, highly intelligent, and blessed with many of the same ministry gifts that I desired for God to cultivate in my life. In many ways, I saw in him the very best of what I recognized in my earthly father.

2) My involvement with the cult

The honeymoon phase in my new home lasted not quite a year. During that time I followed George like a baby duck would its mother. I hung on his words, traveled with him when he conducted personal ministry, pressed him with curious questions, and modeled after his expressive delivery when teaching. I wanted to be like him. I imitated him to the best of my ability, because I was convinced that he was fully imitating Christ. Never content with "status quo" Christianity, George was continually pushing himself and others to new levels of commitment. I did my best to match his unquenchable zeal for truth. Always a firebrand when confronting evil in even its subtlest forms, George had earned quite a reputation in the rural area in which we lived for his aggressiveness. Casting away reserve, I would plunge into angry tirades with those who dared to contradict "truth" that I spoke. Imperceptibly, at least to my own awareness, I was becoming more harsh and judgmental with each passing day. Anesthetized to my own wrong temper and spirit, I was not attending to the fact that the boomerangs that I threw would all eventually return. Return they did, beginning in May of 1981.

At that time I fell into sin, and came under the searing spotlight of examination from George and the other elders of the assembly. My vain attempts to duck and dodge their confrontations only caused me to sink deeper into a quagmire of religious façade. My evasiveness and denial naturally led to escalated rebukes from the church leadership. This cycle of intensified dealings eventually culminated after about a year and a half, when I was kicked out of the fellowship in late 1982.

For this action I fault neither the church, nor its leadership. To their credit, they were willing to take a tough and necessary stand in disciplining one (me) who fit the pattern of behavior described in 1 Corinthians 5. While this is a course that many church leaders oftentimes avoid out of human sympathy or friendship, it was the correct path under this set of circumstances. It did work for my salvation, and I commend the appropriateness of their decision. I did not become aware of any cult-like practices until I entered "phase two" of my involvement with the group.

Following my excommunication, I moved back to my hometown and started on a process of healing. A mighty wave of the Lord had started to blow in the community, and I providentially arrived in perfect time to partake of the strong outpouring of mercy and grace. My spirit was refreshed, cleansed, and restored. I had plenty of time to contemplate my grievous choices, and the suffering that I had caused others, including the Lord. I received bountifully from the personal ministry of a number of people, as well as directly from Christ.

About a year and a half later I happened across the path of another individual whom I had met earlier, when she had briefly attended George’s group. She had since undergone some personal hardships, and had moved from the region. She now planned an imminent return trip to the area to see relatives, and we briefly discussed the possibility of making the trip together. While these plans ultimately did not materialize, I was inspired at that time to seek reconciliation with those believers back there toward whom I had been estranged. I penned letters to specific families that I knew that I had wronged. I asked for their forgiveness, and stated my intention to make restitution. I followed up with phone calls to the parties. It was determined that I was to meet with the elders, in the home of one of them, and I traveled back to the area.

At the meeting the genuineness of my restoration was subjected to intense scrutiny. Though I thought that I had taken responsibility for my past actions, I nevertheless encountered a coldness and suspiciousness that called into question whether I was friend or foe. I had a distinct sense that not only were the elders requiring me to prove myself, but that I would be counted guilty unless and until I could convince them otherwise. I remember battling awkward feelings of defensiveness, and wondering at several points whether there was anything constructive that could possibly come from our interaction. All the while I was conscious of the Lord’s favor toward me, and considered it my duty to press pass any resistance on their part in order to bring reconciliation in a matter where I had clearly been the one at fault. I persevered in spite of a powerful temptation to do otherwise, and after perhaps an hour or more I was eventually recognized and embraced as a brother in Christ. This marked the reestablishment of fellowship with George’s assembly. Viewing events retrospectively, it also signaled perhaps my first clear indicator that all was not healthy with this group.

Over the next five years I stayed in fairly regular contact with George and other members of the assembly. I made numerous long trips back to see them, and even served in teaching, in music, and in prophetic ministry on several occasions within their church gatherings. They came to my hometown, and interacted with believers there. I introduced them to prophets, who flew to their region and ministered to them. Later, in private conversations with these prophets, they offered mixed reviews in their assessments of the state of this group. Still, this was my family, and I held an unswerving commitment to them. The bond that I shared with them seemed stronger than that which I enjoyed with those in the hometown church—even those who had played a significant role in my restoration.

During this time there were warning signs. Initially, the prophetic ministry that I had helped introduce, along with substantial assistance from others, was quickly and enthusiastically embraced. People there began to flow in dreams, visions, and other revelatory manifestations—though not with the same outpouring of mercy and grace that had so characterized those from whom I had been learning. In fact, in the months that followed, the alleged spiritual condition of two of my friends in George’s assembly became a matter of concern to which I became privy. Underpinned with supporting dreams, it was privately prophesied to and among the leaders there that these two individuals—"Alan" and "Greg"—had spiritually died, and were facing soon impending physical death in confirmation of this fact. George’s wife, it had also been determined, had become reprobate. Furthermore, during this same period the spiritual state of many within my hometown church were judged by George and those within his church to be misguided, and in some cases, deceptive and wicked.

I began to experience numerous intense and fitful dreams, which boded as serious warnings. The exact interpretation of these ominous dreams was not clear to me, though George was available as a dream interpretation resource. In one dream I was even kissing the hand of a witch. George supplied me with some judiciously restrained, yet carefully worded admonishment concerning my present church situation back home. To be sure, there were some real problems in the home church at that season. (It turned out to be a time that preceded great upheaval there.) I recall the fear and confusion, as I tried to separate truth from error. Did the evil that I was seeing in the night watches pertain to my present home church situation? Could it pertain to George, and his church? Was it descriptive of both? I was racked with almost constant torment, being uncertain as to whom to trust.

Compounding this tension were difficulties at home. My marriage of two years was under heavy strain. My first daughter from that union was born during that time, so along with the two stepdaughters that I already had, my household now consisted of five. A few months after Michaela’s birth, I lost my job. Pressures were mounting, seemingly from every direction. Major decisions were required of me in the immediate, and these would involve huge changes for my family and me. Throughout this time the fog that had settled over me only seemed to intensify. The one thing that seemed to be reliable was the bond that I had forged with George. Again, my identification with my sense of "family" won out. I sold the home and moved, along with my household, back to George’s area of the country in September of 1989.

My return came during a season when George’s assembly was vigorously pursuing greater dimensions of the prophetic. Some individuals, "Ralph", "Annette", and "Cassie" in particular—appeared to be receiving remarkable revelations with respect to national and world events. In one such instance, Ralph prophesied the precise minute when a major stock market correction would occur—October 13, 1989, at 3:02 pm—several months before this actually unfolded. Many in the assembly, including me, participated in a "prophetic project" that would soon become a common "exercise of faith" for those within the group. Capitalizing on a highly speculative stock market option called "puts", the majority of the families in the church invested considerable amounts of money based on Ralph’s future prediction. When his prophecy did prove true, astounding profits were realized. A number of the families made thousands of dollars from their "faith venture".

This successful beginning in Wall Street trading launched the group into a continual preoccupation with stock market movements that became nothing short of obsessive. The accuracy or lack thereof for ensuing predictions made the budding prophets and prophetesses either "heroes" or "goats", depending on the outcome of the corporate investing by church members. Over the many months when this was practiced, those who were seeking to develop in the prophetic were often publicly rebuked and shamed. Much more money was lost than was ever made, as member-investors chased spurious revelations. George and the other elder, "Brent", were not only active in participation, but actually promoted this investment strategy as a direction of church emphasis.

(At this point there were only two elders, George and Brent. The man who had previously been an elder with them had moved away to purse another ministry. He was now reputed to be a "wolf" by all within the group.)

However, the prophetic rebukes cut both ways. Dreams and other revelations became the basis for intrusive confrontations with those who were "shown to be in error". Shortly after my move back to the community, I and perhaps five other men were invited to a friendly, penny poker match at the residence of another man in the assembly. Our casual card game became an incident of corporate shame for all participants, as we were subsequently judged to have been involved in a demonic activity. Days beforehand Cassie had dreamed of satanic, hooded figures convening around a home, and George interpreted our poker party to be the fulfillment. One by one, the guilty gamblers rose during a church gathering to confess their wickedness. I remember my own sense of shock, as I heard my brothers acknowledge their "sin" before the congregation. Yet in betrayal of my own conviction, I eventually joined them in "repentance".

As the assembly pressed into yet more profound and demanding depths of "holiness" and "faith", a clearer separation developed between "insiders" and "outsiders". A core of perhaps ten adults from among about 45 men and women that were regular attendees comprised this informally defined inner circle. With the exception of George and Brent, the remaining "core members" were almost exclusively women. (My wife was numbered among those chosen saints.) The remaining group of about 35 was made up of those who either manifested a spiritual sluggishness at best, or, in the worst cases, those who were judged to be reprobate. There was an assortment of levels in between these two extremes, and one’s "state" was never static. One who was precariously near to "spiritual death" only yesterday would sometimes "repent", and hence advance toward a recognized place of honor, though often their breakthrough would prove short-lived. Likewise, one of the esteemed within the group would occasionally slip into a funk of darkness, and thus fall from his or her place of grace. Usually, determinations regarding such falls were not made on the basis of what would normally be considered tangible, external sins. Rather, they were "spiritually discerned" by George, who was unquestionably considered endowed with a razor-sharp "gift of discernment".

On or around early 1991, George concluded that the time had come to step things up a notch. He noted that Romans 16:17 commanded the church to . . . "mark those who cause divisions and offenses contrary to the doctrine which you have learned, and avoid them." His solution in application of this truth was to begin publishing a "sinners list" comprised of those within the church group who failed to "bear the fruit of a Christian". This list was posted on the wall of the rented room that served as the church assembly point. Initially, the list consisted largely of the predictable appointees, men and women who were of a longstanding, infamous status. It began to expand though, and soon included several surprise inductees. Frequently, a specific event triggered one’s addition to "the list".

As "the list" continued to lengthen, I became increasingly insecure about my own place before God. I was self-conscious about my anxiety, and my overall lack of peace and joy. Unlike many of my counterparts on the "outside" whose names already were published, I had not committed any "crime" that would result in my being officially labeled a "sinner". Still, I felt that I was definitely "on the bubble". As my introspection waxed stronger, the tension within me mounted. Eventually, I went to George and asked that he put my name on "the list" as well. He complied.

I distinctly remember "the list" growing to the point where well over half of the assembly was included. Yet the instances of further public shaming continued. One Sunday, Brent had all of the enlisted to stand before the congregation and receive a sharp, verbal rebuke. I also recall an occasion where Annette, Brent’s wife, grabbed her daughter of about eight years and shrank back from me in horror, upon observing me conversing with her child at a church picnic. Such ostracism purportedly held a two-fold value. At the very least, it identified the "criminals", and hence protected "the unleavened remnant" from becoming contaminated by the "serpentine influence" of those who were "hardened in sin". Also, in the spirit of 1 Corinthians 5 and 2 Corinthians 7, it was considered a potential vehicle of "salvation through humiliation" for some, if, in fact, they were still salvageable.

It was well understood that many had "gone too far", and hence were beyond any hope of restoration. When the prophets and prophetesses had "death dreams", these often carried both spiritual and imminent physical implications for one who was "doomed to damnation". It was not as though these revelations lacked any historical foundation. At least two former members who had been counted reprobates had died gruesome deaths in automobile accidents. Another man, who attended the assembly for many years before he was judged to be totally depraved, committed suicide during this time that I was there.

The admonition in Jude to "save some with fear" was given considerable emphasis. On or around February of 1992, George tersely thundered a warning specifically to me during a church-wide home gathering one night. "If you don’t repent, you (Daryl) will be out of this assembly within six months!" Similar public predictions were made concerning other named individuals as well. Much to my angst, his declaration about me proved prophetic.

In July of that same year I made what was deemed to be an inappropriate gesture toward my wife in the presence of my children. She was offended, and immediately reported this incident to the eldership. George phoned, and informed me that I was no longer welcome at the church.

During the ensuing months, my wife and children would pile into the car two times a week and leave for church meetings. I would lie in bed and cry before the Lord, begging Him for mercy. I recall remarking to my wife on one occasion, "I don’t see how I will ever be able to find my way back to God as long as we are here." Once we discussed the possibility of moving to another part of the country, but I never took the initiative to pursue this course.

In February of 1993, George came over to the house and sat down at the kitchen table with my wife and me. He calmly explained that the Lord had shown him that I had become reprobate, and as such, was beyond any possibility of restoration. After this encounter, I carefully considered suicide as an option. Believing the report of the one whom I still counted to be God’s representative authority in my life, I was at the point of utter despair. I weighed the potential impact that such an action would have on my wife, children, and others. I thought about what I understood to be the eternal consequences of such a choice. After some serious and thoughtful processing, I determined to continue hoping against hope in the mercy of the Lord. Still suspended in a state of virtual constant fear, my persistent heart cry was that God would have pity on me and take me back.

For a period spanning a couple of years I refrained from claiming to be a Christian. While I would testify to others that God was exceedingly good, and worthy of our whole lives, I stopped short of any mention of my condition. If pressed, I would admit that I was lost. Such a position was unnerving and profoundly perplexing to all with whom I had contact. Naturally, associates at work and elsewhere didn’t know what to think, or how to relate to me.

One day my wife suggested that we make a clandestine visit to a church several hours away. Since she was still very much an "insider" at George’s church, this was a daring move on her part. I agreed, and my family and I attended the service. Afterward, I came forward for personal ministry. I do not recall precisely what the man spoke over me, but I do remember his great compassion. He assured me that God was bringing me through my ordeal, but cautioned me that it would be a long, arduous process. His words were like cold, refreshing water to one whose throat was parched with thirst. It fanned my then dim embers of hope.

Upon changing jobs shortly afterward, I met a co-worker who was a pastor. I was struck by the sincere love for Christ and for others that he evidenced, and his unpretentiousness. I watched his life very carefully over the next six months. Still suffering from paranoia, I did not trust easily. Through his teaching, George had convinced me that very few churches possessed light, and that the vast majority of church leaders were blind and self-serving. Nonetheless, through patient scrutiny, I became persuaded that Joe was genuine. I approached him one day, and poured out my heart to him. Around the summer of 1994 I started attending the church that he pastored. I began making spiritual "baby steps" once again, as I listened to his messages that affirmed God’s love for me.

About two years after I was excluded from George’s church, my marriage fell apart and my family was splintered. My wife, who had been held in such high standing within the group, had been having an affair with someone whom she met at her place of employment. Since infidelity and divorce were epidemic within that assembly, none of this should have been very surprising to me. There was not even a single example of marital unity within the group. Without exception, every couple in the church was divided. In some instances this was due to divorce. In other cases, it was the result of the estrangement of one of the parties from the spiritual company of the assembly—usually the husband. Sometimes this estrangement took the form of excommunication. Other times it played out unofficially through interpersonal church dynamics, which provided the clear signal that the discarded one was an "outsider".

Since leaving George’s church I moved away from the immediate area. I have only had a single significant contact with an active church member from there in the last twelve years. I have, however, established several relationships with other once discarded souls who, like me, have had to deal with the aftermath of the trauma that they experienced there.

3) Why did I stay in this abusive system?

Upon reading this bizarre account, I suppose one cannot help but question why a person would stay in any abusive group like this—especially a church! I believe that several factors converged, making the situation a very difficult one for the entrapped to escape.

The frog in the pot

The first is the fact that error developed and manifested gradually. I’ve compressed about 15 years of my experience into several pages. While the chronology in its entirety makes for a shocking read, the starting point, including even the first couple of years of my life there, yielded nothing that gave me pause to question whether the Lord was present in their midst. To this day, it is my assessment that the blessing of God was on the group when I met George in 1980. At that time the eldership and the congregation as a whole were comprised of sincere, dedicated Christian people who were hungry for more of God. Those in attendance at the assembly desired heart purity, not a mere legal religious code. From the leadership down, the church embraced the authority of God’s Word, as He revealed Himself through the Scriptures.

So how could something begin so right, and end up so wrong? At least in part, the answer is found in the analogy of the frog and the boiling water. I am told that if a frog is tossed into a pot of boiling water that he will at least attempt to jump out. However, that same frog may be content to stay in a pot of water at room temperature on a stove. Even when the burner is turned on and the contents slowly heated, the frog will often remain—even to the point of boiling to death.

When error comes in slowly it continues to make tiny, incremental, and unnoticed advances if left unchecked. This is all the more reason why we not only need to remain accountable to our leadership, but they equally share a responsibility to be accountable to us as well.

"Unapproachable" Leaders

When things appear healthy at the commencement of a relationship it is common for people to relax their guard. As trust grows, we are prone to overlook what may appear to be questionable behavior or error in others. Not wanting to be critical, we may excuse such things as being merely another’s idiosyncrasies, or perhaps even our own misjudgments. This is not necessarily bad; in a measure this can be a normal, constructive adjustment as we grow together with others. However, things become problematic when issues that we sense should be addressed are not addressed, for whatever reason.

Sometimes people are reluctant to take issues and concerns to their leadership out of fear of their reaction. They may keep things inside because of their own insecurities, and a powerful desire to be perceived by the leaders as a "cooperative team member" (i.e., they are "people-pleasing"). They may be afraid of appearing foolish or ignorant, and may suppose that the mere questioning of a matter would cast them in this light. A lot of times such concerns are illusory, and are not founded on a realistic appraisal of their leaders. In other words, people may fear a fleshly, immature response, when if they would but open an issue for discussion, they would actually have the ear of their leadership. (Whether the leader ultimately agrees or disagrees with the viewpoint of one who approaches him is not at issue here. Instead, the receptivity of the one occupying a position of authority is the main concern.)

In other instances, one’s uneasiness with a leader is well founded. Perhaps a perceived lack of openness in the church leadership is clearly and accurately discerned. Maybe one has observed an elder interacting with others in a manner that is both closed and controlling, or alternatively, such a one has first-hand experiences with the leader that proves this to be so.

In either case, the moment is watershed. A few may actually test their instincts, directly approaching the leader about those matters that are causing them to feel reluctance about his authoritarian approach, or his expectations of them. Others may immediately withdraw from the group, recognizing the inherent dangers that are present there. However, many others will opt to avoid at all cost any conflict with such a strong personality. These are generally the individuals who end up staying within the system. In subsequently submitting themselves to this brand of "authority", these passive ones effectively relinquish their right (though not their duty) to hear the Lord for themselves. They yield to man a part of their personage that is intended to belong to God only. In so doing, they come under a spirit of control that is tantamount to witchcraft.

My operation was consistent with the latter group, when it came to the way in which I related to George. Over time I came to recognize that while he required openness from others even when he was being intrusive, he did not respond in a reciprocal fashion when others similarly challenged him. Instead, he became angry. He tended to become rejecting toward people as well as their ideas, perceiving both to be a threat, when his positions or decisions were called into question. As I came to learn this, I adopted the identical "treading on egg shells" approach when dealing with George on potentially conflictive matters, as had been part of my "survival mode" during childhood.

The issue of control

My definition of a cult always used to involve at least one of the two elements that I considered to be the key qualifiers: