Several years ago, an elderly brother was no longer able to take care of himself. To their
credit, a Witness couple related to him, took him into their home. Sadly, the other Witness
relatives made every excuse to avoid taking care of him during the remaining years of his
life, so the couple did their duty largely alone.
Old Brother Rob was developing some form of senility similar to Alzheimers and no one
wanted to deal with the trouble. What followed, however, taught me something about why
Witnesses can persist, despite all logic to the contrary. It was chilling to observe.
Brother Rob forgot bit by bit. He forgot the names of old friends. He forgot his
deceased wife's name. He forgot his son and daughter. He forgot how to dress himself.
He forgot how to tie his shoes. He forgot how to use the bathroom.
Little by little, with each day that passed, a little piece of who he was died.
With each memory gone, only a shell remained.
With so much of his humanity gone, what was left?
Each Sunday, he remembered it was time to go to the meeting
Each Saturday, it was time for service.
Once he "got loose" and wandered into his old neighbor, apparently trying to
go door to door, as a Witness does.
When this poor man was boiled done to his essential identity, what was he?
A loving father? A good husband? A man of depth and goodness?
In truth, he was all those things but what remained of him was his 'programming'
and nothing else.
I used to quote this man's example favorably, as one of faith in the organization.
but now, I look at it very differently,
and it makes me feel a chill.
metatron