Losing my religion: life after extreme belief
Fleeing the grip of a sect can be a matter of life or death. Megan Phelps-Roper, and two other former believers, reveal how they lost almost everything when they lost their faith.
Megan Phelps-Roper, 30, a former member of the Westboro Baptist Church
We believed it was a Good vs Evil situation: that the WBC was right and everybody else was wrong, so there was no questioning. It was a very public war we were waging against the “sinners”. I asked a lot of questions as I got older, but there’s a big difference in asking for clarification and actually questioning the beliefs you’re taught. I spent so much time reading the Bible, trying to see the world through this very particular framework, that to have truly considered [it was wrong] was inconceivable. I’d seen members leave in the past, including my brother, and the thought of ever leaving the church was my worst nightmare.
The WBC loves and thrives on publicity, so I joined Twitter in 2009 to run the church’s account. I was very zealous and adamant that my beliefs were the truth, but I began to realise that the 140-word limit meant I had to drop the throwaway insults or conversations would die. Over time, I found I was actually beginning to like people: to see them as human beings rather than people to condemn. For the first time, I started to care about what people outside the WBC thought of me. As my feelings towards my faith wavered I’d boomerang between thinking “none of this makes sense” to “God is testing me and I am failing”, but it was only in the four months before I left in 2012 that I actually started to make a plan. I cornered my sister in our room one evening and told her I was going to leave and asked her to come with me. She initially said no and told me I was being silly, but over time we’d have stolen conversations about it and she came round to the idea.
Leaving was unbearably sad. Having dinner with my grandparents or bouncing on a trampoline with my brother for the last time; asking my parents about their history in detail because I knew I’d never be able to ask them about it again: I was consciously saying goodbye to my family while they had no idea. I was trying to keep as much of it as I could. On the day, my younger sister and I sat down with my parents after they’d heard that we had planned to leave. They were really upset and my mom was so broken by the news – I’d never seen her face like that before. We told them we didn’t believe anymore, then went to pack. The adrenaline pumping through me made my hands shake as I stuffed my things into bags. Word spread among the family and several of my aunts and uncles turned up to talk us out of it. It started with: “You know better than this” and spiralled into shouting as we left. I went back the next day to pick up the rest of my stuff and knocked on the front door of the house I grew up in for the first time. The cold was immediate. I knew straight-away that I was not a part of the church any more. I was out. I miss my family every single day.
I still momentarily flinch when I come across someone or something the WBC would disapprove of. Two men kissing on the street, a drag queen – anything that takes me back to what I believed for so long. I still encounter those old feelings and then I have to process it: “That’s what the old me would have felt” – it’s an ongoing process of deep deprogramming.
I see the world in split screen now. I remember feeling like we at WBC were a persecuted minority, triumphant in the face of evil people “worshipping the dead” as we picketed funerals or rejoiced at the destruction of the Twin Towers. But beside that memory is the one where I weep thinking about how callous and unmerciful I was to so many people who’d just lost a son or a daughter. I’m ashamed of that now, and it’s still really difficult to think about the harm I caused. It’s overwhelming sometimes.
Deborah Feldman, 29, ex-Satmar Hasidic Jew
Growing up in such a strict community meant we had no contact with the outside world. It still amazes me to think that was and is possible in the Bronx. The only time I’d get a glimpse was if I were ill. Tonsillitis meant a car journey to the doctor, where I’d watch, from the window, people living their lives freely.
I hit my teens and figured out what I needed to do to survive in the community. I’d drawn the wrong sort of attention to myself as a young girl. I’d been rebellious. Asking “why?” was forbidden and I’d be yelled at, ostracised; kids stopped talking to me at school. Women and girls belonged in the kitchen, my grandfather often reminded me. Soon I figured out how to live a double life: I had the version of me that fitted in with the community, and then I had my interior life that no one knew about. As soon as I pretended I was going along with it all, things got easier for me. I got married to someone from the sect when I was 17 and had my son. The most difficult thing was the constant lying. By denying who I really was, I was slowly killing myself.
Leaving wasn’t about courage or strength for me. It was all much more practical than I thought it would be. Some of it was perhaps biological: as soon as my son was born I had this driving instinct to get him out. It took three years of planning and at the very end, when I had everything lined up – money in the bank, a small network of friends on the outside, a divorce lawyer working on the custody of my son – I still couldn’t quite cross the boundary. I was too scared.
What happened next was fate. I was in a car accident I shouldn’t have survived and I walked away without a scratch. As I got out of the car, the Jewish girl in me thought: “God is punishing me and telling me I shouldn’t go”, but as I walked away from the wreck, I thought: “Hang on, if I can survive this, I can survive leaving.”
I have no contact with my family now. The backlash was immense. My family wrote me threatening letters, and later on when I wrote a book about my experiences , the community said I was a hysteric, a liar. I don’t know that I’ll ever be fully deprogrammed. I didn’t just leave a religion, I left a sect that was based on inherited trauma and incorporated antisemitism. Many of the [antisemitic] ideas my grandparents heard in Europe got integrated into their beliefs about themselves and then passed on to their children. I grew up believing we were genetically inferior. They didn’t see that as a bad thing – they’d sit me down and explain: “We’re special to God. Our souls are special, but our genes are inferior, just like they said about us.” How do you even begin to unstitch that?
Imad Iddine Habib, 26, ex-Salafi Muslim
Our lives were based around a single version of a much bigger religion. Disagreements were frowned upon. We weren’t to voice questions. I couldn’t understand why no one debated or discussed the opinion of the scholars and imams – we were expected to blindly follow. Many of the students from my school went to Afghanistan and Syria – that had been their life’s purpose, and though I was interested in Islam as a religion from an academic viewpoint, I knew I wasn’t a Muslim.
My faith finally ruptured at 14. I told my parents I didn’t believe, and I also came out as pansexual. I felt, and still feel, that I was looking at the bigger picture, but they weren’t open to it. I couldn’t be a part of a faith that kept changing the rules depending on the situation. My family’s reaction was typical: a lot of violence and threats initially, and when that didn’t work, my mum got “sick” for 40 days, saying I was being banished from heaven and making her suffer. I was resolute, so they kicked me out. I became homeless and I’ve not seen or heard from them since. In a way I feel I may have shut the emotion of losing my family away somewhere. I try not to feel. There are vivid moments where I miss my mother: her face, her cooking, knowing what she is thinking about, but I can’t afford to get emotional about it.
I moved from place to place and stayed with friends. I got an education: I have a baccalaureate in Islamic sciences and I then founded the Council of Ex-Muslims of Morocco . The resistance is small, but we have a voice. I have had to live in hiding and have received countless death threats. In Morocco, Islam is the state religion, and the state considers you a Muslim by default. You can be jailed for eating in public during Ramadan, so you can imagine what my future there looked like. There is a wide belief that all apostates should be killed.
I attended a public conference in 2013 and spoke out about my beliefs. I was scared, but I also felt it was my duty. I called Islam a virus, which I knew would be inflammatory. Secret services began investigating me and I heard that they contacted my family and questioned my father. I was asked to attend court. My father would later testify against me on the count of an apostasy charge. When it all got too heavy, I knew I had to come to England as a refugee and start over. Not long after I arrived here, I was sentenced to seven years in prison in absentia. I gave up everything and everyone I know, but I’m free.
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/apr/10/losing-my-religion-life-after-extreme-belief-faith?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+USA+-+Version+CB+header&utm_term=166474&subid=14230036&CMP=ema_565
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Are all religions poisonous? Of course not. However all religions can be twisted and perverted into poison.
We have a couple atheists on this site who cannot help themselves from agitating about this topic on an hourly basis it seems.
More than 90% of Americans believe in God in some form. Organized religion is slipping some, but belief in God has held pretty steady for many decades. You are not going to change anyone's mind. Any more than someone seeding 3 or 4 articles a day about how wonderful the Bible is will change anyone's mind.
I posted what I thought was an interesting article of people escaping from religious cults (and there are dozens of them out there, mostly loosely based on one of the three major religions) and why they felt they needed to. I didn't and don't expect to change any minds.
Oh and I don't proselytize.
Great article Randy from the perspective of instilled beliefs within the confines of family and community. The unwavering systems continue in perpetuity due to a whole host of issues, some of which are outline in this article.
I've heard people ask how would you know if a belief or system was a religious cult...my easy definition is, if you're not able to be a free-thinker, question and disagree with the dogma and still remain a member of the religion and certainly a member in our own family - it's a cult!
Excellent point Lynne!
".......if you're not able to be a free-thinker, question and disagree with the dogma and still remain a member of the religion and certainly a member in our own family - it's a cult!"
I was wondering, could this apply to any organized thinking where divergent views are not tolerated? I think so.
What is tells me is that cultism is the evil of separatists. They develop a singularity to one single point and refuse to defend that point against any outside influence. Now everyone has the right to their own beliefs, but one persons interpretations of beliefs should never dominate.
And how does this apply to a two party political system where the parties have conjoined to prevent any changes to their ruling dichotomy? and anyone who objects is a whacked out radical?
I think it fits perfectly....
"I was wondering, could this apply to any organized thinking where divergent views are not tolerated? I think so."
NWM,
Certainly tend to agree with your assessment. While many would dismiss "organized thinking" linked to a word like cult, it certainly fits nicely within my cult narrative when the thinking and actions converge.
When I was seeking my own beliefs in god and Christ (I was about 20) I became involved in a group called "Youth for Christ". Young people becoming involved in younger versions of Christianity was quite popular in the mid-1970s. I gave my heart and soul to Christ in all sincerity and became a member of the group. I was in the Air Force then and I say that only because even though I had my own apartment, I needed to get back and forth to work. I had a 1973 Pinto (talk about faith!), but after awhile there was a slow, subtle pressure for me to give up my apartment and move into the group home. There was also a pressure for me to sign my Pinto over to the church and a member of the church would make sure I got back and forth to the Air Base to work. At first I ignored the requests and put them off, but after awhile it became clear that this was going to be a requirement of me in order to continue to attend the church services, which were held in the group home living room. I actually almost gave in, because I was being told that I was holding back my commitment to my faith. That my being saved may not have been genuine because otherwise I wouldn't question what was being asked.
Well I thought about it for quite awhile and I finally decided that any church that didn't require me to give up my earthly possessions to god, but instead required me to give them up to them, was not a church I wanted to be part of. When I told them my decision you would have thought that I had given my soul over to Satan! I had no trust! I had no faith that Jesus would take care of my needs! My beliefs and professions of were worthless! And on and on for about an hour when I just walked out.
In a way I think it was a very good thing. Not just because I returned to me Catholic roots, but actually sat down and really read the bible, cover to cover. First the Catholic one and then the KJV and finally The Living Bible in common English (Horrible book! Like a readers digest condensed version!). By this time I was out of the Air Force and living back in Michigan and came to the slow realization that I just didn't buy it. Any of it. That not only was I an atheist, but a strong atheist (There are several kinds of atheists ranging from weak (agnostics) to strong (knowing that there is not now and never has been a god or creator)). I have been a strong atheist for many, many years and have been very happy with it. Still I do sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had given in that day, signed over my car and joined that church. Becoming part of a cult seems strange from the outside, but it is incredibly easy to get caught up in one.
I am a literal christian. Not a book christian.
When it says "Look to God" I literally turn it over to him. Because that is what it means.
The bible (at least the new testament) is about faith not obedience. (you will note that most of the quotations they were throwing at you were from the old testament I'm sure)
I cannot possibly believe that any person on this planet can explain christ to me better than he can. So when they tell me how I should believe or live my life, I KNOW they are going against god.
And I shake the dust from my feet.
And yes, Christianity is as simple as that.
When someone asks me the difference between a literal and a book christian, I used to do a little act demonstrating the difference, on the first I would open the book to the passage on Mark on the golden rule. and proceed to read it to them. On the second, i would close the book, beat myself on the crown of forehead with it, then stand there with a look of stunned amazement for a few seconds (long enough for them to give a first reaction) then say "I wonder why it doesn't fit"
Needless to say, I was very seldom invited back, and that told me all I needed to know about their church.
Tried it once with a catholic preist, and he sat there non-plussed watching me, and when I was done told me this..
With the wise fatherly all knowing smile, "If you really want it that bad there are easier ways" I just had to laugh and so did he. But then that broke the ice and I explained my position on god and religion to him and he told me that the church is probably not the best place to explore my faith. Which to me was a confirmation of my belief. And surprising honesty from the priest. (and I got a blessing and a "Go with God" from him when we parted)
Yeah I know, fairly juvenile antics true, and I don't do that anymore except on very rare occasions with absolute true believers, but it is very effective when done right..
And still tells me all I need to know.
Randy,
As you know I profess a faith and belief system in Jesus', redemption, eternal life and probably much of what you heard when you were a part of Youth for Christ. Your statement...
My beliefs and professions of were worthless!
is perhaps the most profound and grieves my very being. You were a young man, putting your belief in Jesus, profess that belief and the Christian's within this group put demands upon you with a twisted sense of discipleship. When you refuse to acquiesce to their demands, your belief and professions are dismissed.
What does that say about the gospel message they shared and you embraced...you're not worthy. This is at the very heart of why I harshly address Christians to discuss the impact of their words, particularily in a forum such as this. Actions and words to our fellow man have impact and often consequences lasting a lifetime. While not perfect, the goal of my Christian faith is to live in such a manner it honors the One whom I claim to follow.
Fortunate for me I sat under Pastor who'd finish many messages with "You don't have to believe a word I said today, take your bible, read it for yourself and allow it to speak to your soul. I'm not perfect and perhaps given your life's circumstance you will come away with a varying point of view." Those words have served me well...I'm still questioning to this day!
Jeese Lynne, I think we read the same book!
God doesn't want sheep following the bell, we may be his flock, but we get to decide the flock we want to join and the bell we wish to follow.
The most horrible thing that can be done to a person is teach him that his knowledge and contribution is worthless to god.
Randy I'm sorry that happened to you, it is not what my god thinks of you.
It appears so NWM. We may not always be on the same chapters and the make up of our flocks may not be exact, but I believe God honors the intent of both our hearts.
When they started questioning me and my faith (at the time) that was exactly the wrong thing for them to do. Guilting may work on some people, but not on me. Rather then help keep me, it drove me away. Some of the members of the church were also in the Ar Force and approached me on the Base a few times, however after I complained to my Squadron Commander (Lt. Col King, who actually was quite a religious man, but didn't seem very impressed with them) it stopped and when they tried to approach me at work once it was an advantage to work in a classified area as they were greeted by large Security Police Officers, with Red Berets, loaded side arms, loaded M16's and no sense of humor at all when they were on duty in that area.
Thanks for your concern and you also NWM
The examples here are about escape from a fanatical extremism of their religions. The more moderate movements within religions do not have such stories about harrowing escapes from them, because for most people religion is not the all-encompassing morass in their lives. Although Randy is correct in that there are many cults from which escape rather than just leaving is required, I would have included Scientology. There is a good movie about being entrapped into a cult, called "Ticket to Heaven". Another movie on the subject, about leaving the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish religion, is called "A Price Above Rubies" starring Renee Zellweger.
By the way, I have read Deborah Feldman's book "Unorthodox" and am very sympathetic to her plight.
"The more moderate movements within religions do not have such stories about harrowing escapes from them"
... unless the child tells the 'moderate' Christian parents that he or she is gay. This happens every day in America, and these kids are callously sent into the streets as if they never existed at all. We've even got a member here who is so bothered by homosexuality that he claims he would risk they future of the world by voting for Donald Trump, if Trump would promise to overturn marriage equality. Religion sucks. It takes otherwise rational and logical people, and turns them into sub-humans.
It takes otherwise rational and logical people, and turns them into sub-humans.
Except for the hundreds of millions that it doesn't.
There are entire countries who sincerely believe that apostasy is punishable by death.