She Sells Sanctuary
The J&M Café on Sixth and Ash in Southeast Portland, Oregon, has a sketch of a garlic clove on its business card and the niftiest coffee mug tree I've ever seen.
I followed Stacey inside, and watched her sign in for a table, then go to the coffee under the tree and fill her travel mug, which she'd brought inside from her car. Have I mentioned that people in this part of the country are serious about their coffee?
She motioned for me to go ahead and take a cup, but I declined, thinking I'd wait until we were seated so the waitress could bring it to me. You know how when you're not accustomed to the customs of a place, you feel awkward about engaging in them? It was like that. We sat on the bench by the window to wait for our table.
A young couple came into the café and greeted Stacey. They chatted aimicably for several minutes, during which time Stacey did not introduce us, and the couple did not look at me once, even though they were standing directly in front of me, and even though they knew I was with her, because she had said we, and had nodded in my direction.
A few minutes later the waitress showed us to our table, and before we could even sit down Stacey was whispering, "Did you hear what they were talking about?"
I hadn't heard, really. I'd looked politely interested until I realized they were going to ignore me, so instead I looked at the walls and took in the ambience. There had been some mention of children; but I'm very good at blocking out ambient noise and conversation, unless I hear my name in the mix. It's a skill that served me well when I worked in a busy maze-like office of veal-fattening pens, but that simultaneously earned me a reputation for being standoffish. If you address me from behind without using my name, I will ignore you. I'm sorry.
"It was all about what hall they were going to now, and what hall was I going to, and did I know what hall so-and-so was going to," Stacey continued.
"Hall?" I was puzzled.
"They're Jehovah's Witnesses," she explained. "All JW's care about is what hall everyone's going to."
"Are you a Jehovah's Witness?" I asked.
"Yes, but I've left the church," Stacey replied.
"I don't know much about Jehovah's Witnesses," I offered. "When I was a kid I lived on this street with about ten houses, and all the kids on the street knew each other and played together, all except the girl and boy who lived next door to me. My mother told me they weren't allowed to play with us because they were Jehovah's Witnesses."
"They're not allowed to play with worldly kids unless they also have Bible study with you," explained Stacey.
"Seriously? Well, I guess that explains it. You know, they lived next door to me for ten years and I never even knew their names. We'd see them occasionally, getting in and out of the car with their parents, or over the back fence, but they never even looked our way, much less said hello. When I was little I felt sorry for them, but at the same time it was kind of creepy; like they were being held prisoner or something. And as I got older their behaviour struck me as... well, rude."
"They don't socialize at all with worldly people. Don't take it personally."
The waitress came and we both ordered the Chorizo Scramble. Then I went to the tree, chose a mug with Winnie the Pooh on it, and poured myself a coffee. When I came back to the table, I asked Stacey if she had done that door-to-door soliciting that Jehovah's Witnesses are so reviled for.
"Oh, yes!" Stacey enthused. "Every JW is required to go door-to-door; it's one of the primary tenets of their faith. I took my first door with my own presentation at age five. I was a true believer."
Stacey has the widest smile you've ever seen. I tried to imagine her knocking on people's doors, spreading the word of Jehovah. I would have found it hard to slam the door in her face. Those people had always struck me as rude, coming to strangers' doors, interrupting their lives without invitation, trying to convert them. I'm all for freedom of religion, though I have no use for it myself, but it's one thing to gather freely together and handle snakes or eat crackers or bang your forehead on the floor; it's quite another to foist your beliefs on your neighbours.
"That must have been hard," I offered, "I mean, you must have had a lot of doors slammed, and had to endure some rude comments."
"Yes, but I was really good at it. I truly believed if I were not effective, God would kill them for not listening, so I wanted to give them the best possible opportunity."
She told me more about the attitudes of true believers, and assured me that they were, in fact, terribly rude and anti-social. It explained why that couple who recognized her in the café had ignored me.
My mother never said a mean word about our neighbours. She just told me not to try to be nice to those children; to leave them alone. She said their religion was their business, and that was the end of it. But after listening to Stacey, I felt relieved; like I'd been given permission to think less than generous thoughts about them.
"It seems to me," I began, hesitantly, "that it's rather counterproductive, isn't it? To expend such effort actively evangelizing the religion to total strangers, yet being rude to your neighbours and acquaintances?"
"Oh, yes, it's completely counterproductive!" Stacey agreed. "It's a cult."
"So, how can you leave it, then? How did you leave?" I asked.
"Well, you can't officially leave, but there are ways. If you say you're leaving, you're disfellowshipped, and when JWs disfellowship someone it's not like when Catholics excommunicate you. Catholics just won't talk to you in church, but they'll talk to you everywhere else. If you're excommunicated by the Jehovah's Witnesses, no one will ever speak to you again, at all. Not even your family."
"That's terrible!" I said. "I'm sorry... but your family? That's just awful."
"I have a friend who moved in with her boyfriend, and was disfellowshipped. She didn't mind being out of the church; she hadn't been a true believer like me, but it's still really hard for her that her family won't speak to her. She has two children now, and her parents will sometimes pick them up and take them out for the day, and not say one word to her." As Stacey talked, my eyes widened in disbelief. "There are some people who are not quite so strict. I have another ex-JW friend whose parents talk to her occasionally, but only in the privacy of their home. They won't visit her in her home, and they haven't been out to dinner with her in ten years. This rule they take pretty seriously — you can't share a meal with a disfellowshipped person or you could be disfellowshipped also."
"Good fucking grief!" I said, and then added, guiltily, "Sorry."
"Oh, don't be sorry, you're right, they're horrible people, partiarchal, and hypocritical. That's why my husband and I left the church."
"How did you leave without being excommunicated?"
"You just stop going to meetings, but you don't tell anyone you've stopped. When I was talking to that couple they asked me which hall I go to, and I just named the suburb where I live. If someone from your hall asks why they haven't seen you for a while, you say you're going to a different hall, or you make up some excuse. I don't lie to the JWs, but there are some who will, in the interests of self-preservation."
"Don't they catch on, eventually, that you're not going at all?"
"Yes, but no one says anything directly. My husband and I left the church four years ago, and our parents don't officially know, but they know."
The Chrorizo Scramble was outstanding, the coffee was excellent, and the conversation enlightening. I hope I have reason to return to Portland one day, and if I do I'll look Stacey up, and I know she won't shun me. Between now and then, however, if you're a Jehovah's Witness, please stay away from Sixty South Street in San Jose, because I'm done being polite to you wackos.
Next, Postmodern Sass meets Neil Kramer of Citizen of the Month, and the mysterious Sophia.
I followed Stacey inside, and watched her sign in for a table, then go to the coffee under the tree and fill her travel mug, which she'd brought inside from her car. Have I mentioned that people in this part of the country are serious about their coffee?
She motioned for me to go ahead and take a cup, but I declined, thinking I'd wait until we were seated so the waitress could bring it to me. You know how when you're not accustomed to the customs of a place, you feel awkward about engaging in them? It was like that. We sat on the bench by the window to wait for our table.
A young couple came into the café and greeted Stacey. They chatted aimicably for several minutes, during which time Stacey did not introduce us, and the couple did not look at me once, even though they were standing directly in front of me, and even though they knew I was with her, because she had said we, and had nodded in my direction.
A few minutes later the waitress showed us to our table, and before we could even sit down Stacey was whispering, "Did you hear what they were talking about?"
I hadn't heard, really. I'd looked politely interested until I realized they were going to ignore me, so instead I looked at the walls and took in the ambience. There had been some mention of children; but I'm very good at blocking out ambient noise and conversation, unless I hear my name in the mix. It's a skill that served me well when I worked in a busy maze-like office of veal-fattening pens, but that simultaneously earned me a reputation for being standoffish. If you address me from behind without using my name, I will ignore you. I'm sorry.
"It was all about what hall they were going to now, and what hall was I going to, and did I know what hall so-and-so was going to," Stacey continued.
"Hall?" I was puzzled.
"They're Jehovah's Witnesses," she explained. "All JW's care about is what hall everyone's going to."
"Are you a Jehovah's Witness?" I asked.
"Yes, but I've left the church," Stacey replied.
"I don't know much about Jehovah's Witnesses," I offered. "When I was a kid I lived on this street with about ten houses, and all the kids on the street knew each other and played together, all except the girl and boy who lived next door to me. My mother told me they weren't allowed to play with us because they were Jehovah's Witnesses."
"They're not allowed to play with worldly kids unless they also have Bible study with you," explained Stacey.
"Seriously? Well, I guess that explains it. You know, they lived next door to me for ten years and I never even knew their names. We'd see them occasionally, getting in and out of the car with their parents, or over the back fence, but they never even looked our way, much less said hello. When I was little I felt sorry for them, but at the same time it was kind of creepy; like they were being held prisoner or something. And as I got older their behaviour struck me as... well, rude."
"They don't socialize at all with worldly people. Don't take it personally."
The waitress came and we both ordered the Chorizo Scramble. Then I went to the tree, chose a mug with Winnie the Pooh on it, and poured myself a coffee. When I came back to the table, I asked Stacey if she had done that door-to-door soliciting that Jehovah's Witnesses are so reviled for.
"Oh, yes!" Stacey enthused. "Every JW is required to go door-to-door; it's one of the primary tenets of their faith. I took my first door with my own presentation at age five. I was a true believer."
Stacey has the widest smile you've ever seen. I tried to imagine her knocking on people's doors, spreading the word of Jehovah. I would have found it hard to slam the door in her face. Those people had always struck me as rude, coming to strangers' doors, interrupting their lives without invitation, trying to convert them. I'm all for freedom of religion, though I have no use for it myself, but it's one thing to gather freely together and handle snakes or eat crackers or bang your forehead on the floor; it's quite another to foist your beliefs on your neighbours.
"That must have been hard," I offered, "I mean, you must have had a lot of doors slammed, and had to endure some rude comments."
"Yes, but I was really good at it. I truly believed if I were not effective, God would kill them for not listening, so I wanted to give them the best possible opportunity."
She told me more about the attitudes of true believers, and assured me that they were, in fact, terribly rude and anti-social. It explained why that couple who recognized her in the café had ignored me.
My mother never said a mean word about our neighbours. She just told me not to try to be nice to those children; to leave them alone. She said their religion was their business, and that was the end of it. But after listening to Stacey, I felt relieved; like I'd been given permission to think less than generous thoughts about them.
"It seems to me," I began, hesitantly, "that it's rather counterproductive, isn't it? To expend such effort actively evangelizing the religion to total strangers, yet being rude to your neighbours and acquaintances?"
"Oh, yes, it's completely counterproductive!" Stacey agreed. "It's a cult."
"So, how can you leave it, then? How did you leave?" I asked.
"Well, you can't officially leave, but there are ways. If you say you're leaving, you're disfellowshipped, and when JWs disfellowship someone it's not like when Catholics excommunicate you. Catholics just won't talk to you in church, but they'll talk to you everywhere else. If you're excommunicated by the Jehovah's Witnesses, no one will ever speak to you again, at all. Not even your family."
"That's terrible!" I said. "I'm sorry... but your family? That's just awful."
"I have a friend who moved in with her boyfriend, and was disfellowshipped. She didn't mind being out of the church; she hadn't been a true believer like me, but it's still really hard for her that her family won't speak to her. She has two children now, and her parents will sometimes pick them up and take them out for the day, and not say one word to her." As Stacey talked, my eyes widened in disbelief. "There are some people who are not quite so strict. I have another ex-JW friend whose parents talk to her occasionally, but only in the privacy of their home. They won't visit her in her home, and they haven't been out to dinner with her in ten years. This rule they take pretty seriously — you can't share a meal with a disfellowshipped person or you could be disfellowshipped also."
"Good fucking grief!" I said, and then added, guiltily, "Sorry."
"Oh, don't be sorry, you're right, they're horrible people, partiarchal, and hypocritical. That's why my husband and I left the church."
"How did you leave without being excommunicated?"
"You just stop going to meetings, but you don't tell anyone you've stopped. When I was talking to that couple they asked me which hall I go to, and I just named the suburb where I live. If someone from your hall asks why they haven't seen you for a while, you say you're going to a different hall, or you make up some excuse. I don't lie to the JWs, but there are some who will, in the interests of self-preservation."
"Don't they catch on, eventually, that you're not going at all?"
"Yes, but no one says anything directly. My husband and I left the church four years ago, and our parents don't officially know, but they know."
The Chrorizo Scramble was outstanding, the coffee was excellent, and the conversation enlightening. I hope I have reason to return to Portland one day, and if I do I'll look Stacey up, and I know she won't shun me. Between now and then, however, if you're a Jehovah's Witness, please stay away from Sixty South Street in San Jose, because I'm done being polite to you wackos.
Next, Postmodern Sass meets Neil Kramer of Citizen of the Month, and the mysterious Sophia.
Labels: Americana, close encounters, travel
12 Comments:
Loved it! It's fascinating to see bits of my story through another person's eyes. Those of us who are recovering from having been involved with a high-control group often place a much greater value on truth than on family. I suppose we missed that period in life where you are supposed to learn how real families behave, so other than understanding the hypocrisy of excommunication/disfellowshipping, we don't really know what "family" and "unconditional love" represents. It's all conditional.
I find it amazing that a normal individual's perspective makes the lack of filial love the central point of the vignette, while I realize I tell that part as almost an afterthought. "They lied about this, they lied about that... and oh by the way, they cut off their children for believing differently."
You know, you can "get over it" and go on to lead a happy, contented, productive life, but your world-view remains forever skewed.
Hi Sass,
Just wanted to add something;
I am a Jehovah's Witness. Now and when I was a young child, I spoke regularly with neighbors, even help them out. Now and then, I visited people that were not Jehovah's Witnesses. My daughter has hung out with the neighbor kids thru the years. The scriptures plainly tells us the command from God "To love our neighbors as ourselves." So, I treat others the way I want to be treated with dignity and respect, regardless of whether they are a Jehovah's Witness or not. Do I or Did I mainly gravitate to socialize more with those of simular interests/beliefs? Yes, just like everyone else on the planet. And just like everyone else on the planet, there are those who are antisocial by nature and rude, regardless of their so called "belief". But, it is unchristian to treat others rudely, just because they are not Jehovah's Witnesses. The scriptures state that by our conduct, others would be won without a word. As you put it, it is counterproductive to our ministry, where we are trying to help people. Jesus spoke with a Samaratan woman, although that was not a practice looked upon well, during his day. We do watch who and how much we associate, because we know that you are affected by those you surround yourself with. But, that is not because of a cult mentality, it is just wisdom. The same wisdom for centuries that parents have passed onto their children, when guiding them in picking associates. As for why the couple did not speak with you, while talking to your friend, I usually wait for someone to introduce me to their acquaintance first. It was your friend’s place to draw you into the conversation.
I do understand from your perspective and other non-JW’s that our door-to-door ministry can be considered rude or intrusive. But, if I share an illustration with you, maybe you might feel slightly different. Illustration: Your on a cruise ship and in the middle of the night when you are sleeping, it begins to sink at a steady pace. When that steward knocks urgently on your door, in the middle of the night, it may appear to be rude or intrusive, but the steward knowing of the perilous conditions, is moved to knock on your door until they rouse you to action to save your life. Would you be annoyed with that steward or be grateful that they took the time to help you? Also, if that steward failed to warn any passengers, he would be bloodguilty for allowing all those people to perish, because it was within his abilities to help them. Well, that is what is happening with our ministry, it is not to disturb people or shove our beliefs down their throat, but to warn them and help them take action to save their lives. It is not an easy work and is not always pleasant, but we care about our fellow humans and that what keeps us coming to your door.
As for leaving our organization, I know of ones (including my brother) that stop coming because it is their choice and they are still spoken to. Now those that choose a course in opposition to the standards of the Bible and write a letter removing themselves from the congregation or those who have violated God's standards as set in the Bible and are disfellowshipped these are the ones that are not associated with due to choosing the course that violates God's standards. They have the opportunity to change their mind and return to the clean standards of God. The scriptures state that God wants all men to repent and turn around and choose his way of life.
I hope I have not offended you and I hope I have given you some additional things to think about in regards Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Sincerely,
BoxTopMom
Dear BTM: I am not offended, however, your analogy is severely flawed. The steward would not disturb my privacy to tell me that HE BELIEVES the ship is sinking.
I love people you can just sit with and have a real conversation. It's amazing how many different perspectives there are out there.
I was a JW for about a decade as a child. My mom left the religion in '84 (I was 13 at the time) and I followed her as opposed to my siblings who stayed with their dad and with "the truth".
JW's are about as "unchristian" as is possible. My mom has 9 grandchildren, but can very rarely see them due to her not believing exactly as her children do. She was not allowed to go to her only daughter's wedding reception. Needless to say, she cried many tears over that. Jesus would never condone such unconscionable actions.
Their religion is also sexist since you have to have a penis in order to be able to speak to the congregation.
My God is much, much grander than theirs. They all truly, sadly are children of a "lesser" God.
So glad you were not offended.
Actually, the steward does come with the belief that the ship is sinking. Circumstances could change, the problem overted and the ship saved. But based on facts at the time, he acts either on his opinion or the opinion of the one sounding the warning. Short of deliberately sabatoging the ship can he guarantee the ship will go down.
The definition of "believe" is;
to credit with veracity;
be confident about something;
to have an opinion based on facts gathered.
As Bible students, the Bible clearly states things to look forward to when major changes will happen here on earth. Jesus clearly warned his followers to be on the watch. By watching world events that have been transpiring, we have the same confidence that the steward has that "our proverbial ship is in trouble" and we are just warning others.
Thank you for the discussion.
BoxTopMom
Thank you, "BoxTopMom". My experience is quite similar to yours. I played with all the neighbor kids, but knew enough to go home if anyone was vulgar, rude, or nasty in any way.
This family that was in your neighborhood, "Postmodern Sass", may have had some other issues going on, or possibly had had previous bad experiences with some neighbors. You can't judge all of Jehovah's Witnesses by just a few.
Also, there are so many, many misconceptions about disfellowshipping. Family love absolutely remains intact, and it is rare that one family member will not speak at all with another. What they don't speak about are spiritual and congregational matters, but the disfellowshipped person is welcome to attend all the meetings, and is actually encouraged to do so, so this one is not shunned in the manner which many people seem to think.
BoxTopMom: I don't expect you to believe this, because crazy people never know that they're crazy, but you're a wacko.
If that steward disturbs my sleep, and my privacy, to tell me he personally believes that the ship is sinking, but cannot offer any proof that the ship is sinking, he will yea verily come to know what it is to feel the wrath of god.
Now, if you want to continue "witnessing" (as my friend Stacey tells me that's what you are doing), then please go start your own blog. This is my blog, and I get to have the last word.
Interesting and informative post. I have known a number of JWs over the years but did not know all of the things that Stacey shared with you.
heehee. by the way, my dictionary defines "belief" as such:
to have confidence in the truth, the existence, or the reliability of something, although without absolute proof that one is right in doing so.
Kind of like saying "I believe because I choose to believe." Ooookay then.
Look JW responders, if you'd like me to trot out my credentials as a JW to prove my veracity, I can do that. I'd rather not, since I find it a little disturbing to think of the degree to which I was a "good example" while associated. Who knows, you may have seen me on the stage at one of the many, many District Conventions or Circuit Assemblies where I and/or my family was featured in experiences and demonstrations.
No matter how you try to whitewash it on this "worldly" person's blog, I know, and you know, the Watchtower's stance on associating with "worldly" people, and associating with disfellowshipped individuals. If you need a refresher, I suggest you re-examine your August 2002 "Kingdom Ministry."
You know, and I know, that "suggestions" on association are not really optional, not if you don't want to end up in a shepherding call or a judicial committee.
(Sorry, Sass, I had to get in a "last word" too.)
P.S. to the JWs, Don't forget to count your time on your Field Service Report.
Fanaticism, of any kind, works my nerve. Amazing, some of the people who come to your place, Sass.
Very informative over here.
Because I know you my favorite blogging relative, I have to say this about the responses to this blog "HOLY FUCK IS THIS FOR FUCK'IN REAL"
Do you have to deal with this all the time?
By the way I thought the blog was one of your best!
Later cuz
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