My Story - Part 1
My Story - Part 2
In my previous thread (Part 2) I stated that I would talk about my experience as a Regular Pioneer in this thread. I apologize for digressing, but I felt that I should discuss events and experiences prior to that; which profoundly molded my thinking and eventually led me to entering the full time work. I will discuss my Pioneer experiences in Part 4.
In my early teen years, the thought of becoming a Pioneer later in life just didn’t appeal to me. I was not particularly enthusiastic about field service or other organizational activities even though I was a pretty good kid by most people’s standards.
During my teenage years, I had several experiences that had a deep impact on me personally, and which I believe, deepened my devotion to the organization. Such experiences began to reshape my thinking, and began to slowly open my mind to the possibility of serving in the full time work.
About six months before my baptism, my parents and I traveled up to Fresno, California to attend the District Convention there. It was at this Summer of 1989 series of District Conventions that the book: Questions Young PeopleAsk was released. As many of you remember, the book release was preceded by a special talk that was addressed to all of the youth in attendance.
The brother who delivered the special talk to us at the Fresno Seland Arena was Governing Body member Karl Klein. As soon as Klein stepped up to the microphone and opened his mouth, many of the kids began to snicker. My older cousin and I covered our mouths to hold back our laughter. Our much younger cousin could not contain himself and let out with a loud chuckle. Those of you who have heard Karl Klein speak will know exactly what I am talking about. But for those of you who have never heard his voice, let me try to explain it in the best way that I can.
The best way that I can describe Karl Klein’s voice is that it sounded as if a sound engineer had somehow morphed together the voices of Popeye and an Ewok from Return of the Jedi. I’m not joking. I am not trying to tear down or besmirch the man, I am just trying to convey the surprise that us children experienced when hearing his voice for the first time. It was quite surreal to listen to a Popeye-Ewok voice speak about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; and then try to tie their stories into the modern day temptations of school dances, dating, and masturbation.
As we received our copies, many of us eagerly began scanning the pages; looking at the chapter titles. I did not expect to find anything of real interest in the book. I expected to see chapters for the girls such as: "Is Popping Your Gum And Rolling Your Eyes Acceptable For Christians?", "Should A Christian Say ‘Oh My God’ When Excited About New Clothes?", or "Whats Wrong With Showing Cleavage?"
For the boys, I was expecting to see chapter titles such as "Armpit Hair - A Product Of Evolution Or Loving Design?", "Fred Franz Remained Celibate - So Can You", or "Is The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue Acceptable For Christians?"
I was pleasantly surprised however, when I began to examine the new book. I must admit, that I liked the book, and I thought that it had some really good information for me. This book soon became the next publication that my mother studied with me each week. To a young person like me, many of the other study publications seemed dry and academic. The Young People Ask book however, seemed to speak directly to me as a teenager. Since I was about to enter high school, it seemed to me that the Faithful Slave had indeed given us "food at the proper time". I believe that studying this book helped me to develop a deeper bond and devotion to the organization.
Like so many Jehovah’s Witnesses, I grew up believing that attaining a college education was indicative of an independent spirit, and a self-serving attitude. I remember that the Society seemed to regularly discourage university education; referring to it as a distraction in this "dying old system of things". The convention talks and counsel from the traveling overseers seemed to regularly encourage the youth to focus on "learning a trade" instead.
This began to create mixed feelings within me, because I had a natural talent and passion for art. I was already excelling at school in the area of art and was beginning to gain the recognition of teachers for my abilities. I tried to alleviate my dissonance by telling myself that I could wait to be a professional artist in the new system. In the new system, maybe I could set up my easel on Sundays and paint the lions and giraffes that meandered through my front yard.
A suggestion that seemed to be repeated by traveling overseers with a nauseating redundancy, was for the young men in the organization to learn a construction-related trade. The rationale behind this was that one could contribute such skills to the organization’s building work not only now, but in the new system. Back in the early 1990’s, I remember hearing prominent brothers, including traveling overseers flatly state that business skills would not be needed in the new system; so why bother learning them now?
It is funny, and at the same time frightening to consider how the Watchtower could teach that men such as these would eventually be appointed as princes over the earth. It is hard to imagine living in a spiritual paradise where people are governed by men who have about as much intellectual depth as a bowling ball.
However, as a Witness teenager, the organization’s reasoning did seem to make some sense to me. I personally did not know of any elders or other prominent brothers in the organization who had a college degree. The elders that I knew certainly were not encouraging a university education, either. The only instances of Witnesses going to college that I had heard of were the horror stories that were shared at the assemblies. I look back on all of this with amusement when considering how the Watchtower organization has demagogued the college issue.
Many of us can remember the nail-biting epic tales that were cherry-picked by the circuit overseers for their especially tragic endings: The innocent little pioneer sister who goes off to college and ends up becoming a sex slave for the Hell’s Angels. The meek Ministerial Servant who goes off to college and ends up as a gay porn star. The young married JW couple who go to college and then end up as cocaine-using, spouse-swapping swingers in San Francisco. It’s funny how the experiences of the college graduates who ended up at Bethel as lawyers, accountants, and engineers never made it into those talks.
As I began to grow older; I generally began to adopt the organization’s anti-intellectual mindset and negative attitude toward college education. Since I believed that the end was "just around the corner", I bought into the Society’s assertions that we would be able to learn all we wanted about nature, science, and the human mind in the new system of things. I also figured that I could master my artistic skills in the new system as well.
As I later came to realize; very seldom does it occur to Witnesses how they will have all of this "free time" in the new system. Where would they get the free time to study such subjects if they are going to be cleaning up all of the corpses of worldly people, preaching and teaching to the billions of resurrected people, tearing down sky scrapers, cleaning up pollution, burning all of the Shirley MacLaine books, and pushing around wheel barrows full of mulch? How would anyone have any time to devote themselves to non-Watchtower related studies such as marine biology, astronomy, or art history?
I occasionally thought about such questions, but quickly dismissed them. I just assumed that with the ingenuity of the brothers, Jehovah’s holy spirit, and people like Nathan Knorr directing the earthly princes from heaven; these things would just get taken care of. Maybe various resurrected people could add their expertise to the restoration efforts as well.
Perhaps the resurrected Chairman Mao could instruct the brothers on how to keep the millions of workers uniform and compliant. The resurrected J. Edgar Hoover could show the brothers how to maintain better publisher files. As far the bodies of 6 billion worldly people are concerned, maybe resurrected Nazi officers could teach the brothers how to utilize mass graves. And with all of the anointed brothers gone to heaven, maybe the resurrected L. Ron Hubbard could carry the torch when it comes to publishing convoluted religious literature.
I was one who could picture myself fixing and building things in the new order. In my mind, I asked myself why any Witness would even think about going into the areas of business, law, or medicine, since the end is right around the corner, and such areas of expertise would be worthless in the new system. Of course, little did I know at the time how much the Watchtower would need some good lawyers in the future.
My thinking on the matter was: what could be more satisfying than being a theocratic tradesman in the new system? And, possibly working along the side of resurrected Bible heroes! How exciting it would be to look at a construction manual with Daniel. To lay a concrete slab for Rahab. To install electrical cable with Able. To plant some roses with Moses. To make a cinder block with Enoch, or design a dam with Abraham! Oh, the possibilities!
During this time in my life, the people who probably had the deepest influence on me were two congregation elders named Jim and Mario; and a Ministerial Servant named Ed. All of them took a special interest in me and gave me encouragement. I had been close friends with Jim’s son since childhood, and regularly spent time at their house. In fact, Jim and his wife were so kind as to pay for me to accompany them and a group of friends on a trip to Brooklyn Bethel in 1990, shortly after I was baptized. He was truly a good man.
My father on the other hand, had always been a cold and distant man who rarely spoke to us kids. Like many fathers of his generation, he was a man who sacrificed and worked very hard to provide for our physical needs, but did not seem to know how to be an involved father figure. As I alluded to in Part 1, my father was not someone who reached out for any privileges in the congregation or was interested in "theocratic" activities. All of this was particularly painful for me; especially when observing the other boys in my congregation spending quality time with their dads.
I found myself becoming envious of the other boys who’s fathers were congregation elders. It seemed as though they got to enjoy many activities in the organization that those without elder dads did not. I felt especially envious when I would see the kids my age working along the side of their fathers at conventions, construction projects, and participating in assembly parts.
I have heard psychologists point out that there are specific events in people’s lives that move them to associate feelings of pain (aversion) or pleasure (attraction) toward certain people, places, things, and concepts. I don’t mean to over-analyze matters, but I believe that it was during this period of my life that I really began to associate pain toward the idea of NOT engaging in organizational activities. Simultaneously, I developed a much stronger emotional attraction to pursuing organizational privileges. One of the underlying motivations in all of this is that I did not want to be like my father in any way. I wanted to eventually be like those elders that I saw in the organization.
During these years, I deeply longed for a father figure, or at least a strong male role model in my life. I think this is why I was deeply influenced by the interest that was shown to me by these brothers; particularly Jim and Mario. I greatly admired them both. These two elders became role models to me, and so I developed a powerful desire to model myself after them and to gain their approval. I didn’t really like door-to-door work, but I took advantage of every opportunity that I could get to work with them in field service, so that I could spend time with them.
Mario did not have any children of his own, so he was the type of brother who liked to take young brothers under his wing, so to speak. Ed (the Ministerial Servant) did not have any children either, so he had the time pick me up after school to go out in evening field service. It was during this time that these men started to encourage me to think about the full time ministry.
As I was moving along through high school, I began to seriously ask myself what I wanted to accomplish with my life. I continued to compare the positive mentoring I got from these brothers with the cold, disinterested detachment that I got from my father. I began to harbor an incredible disdain for my father’s lack of activity in the congregation and his lack of interest in organizational affairs. I also grew more resentful with his lack of emotional availability and support toward my mother.
My mother often confided in me that she did not get invited to various social events that the wives of elders enjoyed. She often felt that since my father was not active in the congregation, her and my father were not part of the social cliques that existed within the congregation. Whether all of this was true or not, I internalized this resentment; and it gave me an even stronger desire to reach out for organizational privileges when I got older.
What is interesting is that I began to project my disdain for my father onto other brothers in the congregation that resembled him in these respects. Through these experiences in combination with my own perceptions, I began to believe that real men; spiritual men; successful men - were men who were vigorously active in the organization. I harshly judged those who did not hold privileges and were not active in organizational affairs. I viewed them as weak and inferior failures. I now look back upon this thinking with embarrassment and shame. I am reminded of Jesus words about being judged in the way that we judge others. Such words would eventually ring true in my life, as I was to later feel this harsh judgmentalism toward myself.
I especially respected and admired the men who were prominent in the organization, and who were dynamic speakers. They represented everything that I wanted to become. I began to believe that spiritual growth was measurable by the person’s performance much more than their personal qualities. I developed the attitude that giving eloquent talks, turning in double digits on a report slip, giving lengthy comments at the meetings, and wearing special badges at conventions were the true outward manifestations of spirituality. The fruitages of the spirit were essential, but not nearly as important as the performance of organizational "works". I knew that it was only in performing such organizational "works" that I would be able to gain organizational approval, compliments from overseers, admiration from others, and the attention of sisters.
Meanwhile, I was continuing to excel in the area of art at high school. I had been called upon to paint backdrops for a couple of my high school’s theatrical productions, had won a few awards, and was invited to participate in a Los Angeles student art exhibit. Teachers were telling me that I would have a very successful career in the graphic or fine arts field. This certainly appealed to me, but my Watchtower mindset reminded me that college was out of the picture, and that I should pursue something more "practical".
During this time, I was also receiving a lot of praise from the congregation and the body of elders for my speaking skills. Many people told me that I had a natural gift for public speaking and that I would be a great asset to Jehovah’s organization. Giving talks was something that I loved to do, and I always put enormous effort into my assignments. There were certain friends who would tell me that I had speaking abilities and insights well beyond my years.
Personally, I don’t think that I had any special abilities that were superior to most others in the congregation. I believe that it was my sheer love for giving talks that made me do well. Because my love for public speaking was so strong, I was naturally driven to put extra time and effort into the preparation. I think that my natural enthusiasm showed through in the delivery.
Nonetheless, elders continued to tell me that because of my speaking abilities; I would be a future asset to the organization; perhaps even becoming a circuit overseer some day. A circuit overseer? What a prospect! Just think, I could stand before five thousand people at a circuit assembly and expound on the deep spiritual waters from Jehovah. Insights such as instructions to the sisters on how to be modest in their use of nail polish, or an eloquent address on why gum chewing shows disrespect for Jehovah’s house.
When I was about seventeen years old, I had the opportunity to meet a Bethelite who was engaged to a pioneer sister in my congregation. During his vacation stay in our area, I got to know him a little bit, and I immediately took a liking to him. I was struck not only by his kindness and humility, but by his joyful zeal. He talked to me about his Bethel service a great deal, and how deeply rewarding it was. I had visited Brooklyn Bethel about two years previously, but had not had such in-depth conversations with a Bethelite about Bethel life. He told me about how happy he was, how many wonderful friends he had made, and how rewarding it was to serve at the very headquarters of Jehovah’s earthly organization.
His conversations inspired me; and for the first time in my life, I began to seriously contemplate the possibility of Bethel service. In fact, I began to wonder if I could someday work in the art department in Brooklyn; producing paintings for the publications. The prospect of such a life excited me. But I knew that Bethel did not accept brothers with low field service time. In fact, I had heard from various friends that Bethel focused on accepting brothers who were Ministerial Servants or Pioneers.
As I was nearing the end of my junior year in high school, I knew that I had some major decisions to make. My father was not one to offer any kind of input, as he was ever more detached and in his own world. It did not seem to me that he cared one way or the other what I did. My mother on the other hand, definitely wanted to see me enter the pioneer service. I did not believe that college was a good idea, and I did not have much of a desire to climb the corporate ladder. Working in a dead-end job indefinitely just did not appeal to me either. I was very idealistic, and had a strong desire to do something special with my life. Why not reach out for something special in Jehovah’s organization? But, because of my artistic passion and the desire to pursue it in some way, I remained conflicted about my goals.
In my senior year of high school, I continued to impress much of the staff with some of my art projects; which included projects for the school’s year book, and the drama department. I continued to win awards, and several of the teachers began to question me about my college plans. My art teacher took a huge interest in me, and continually gave me encouragement. Him and I had developed a close bond during my time there. During my final year, he approached me about the idea of applying to Otis Parsons; a well known and highly regarded art school in Los Angeles. He knew some of the personnel, and told me that he would be willing to help me develop my portfolio to get into the college. I told him I would think about it.
I almost felt as if I was the main character in one of one of those district assembly dramas which always follow the same template. Will the young man choose the worldly course, or the pure worship of Jehovah? I felt like young Daniel who had to decide between the tasty delicacies of the world, or the vegetables and water from Jehovah. I routinely stone-walled my art teacher and others; telling them that I would "think it over". I was deeply torn between the two propositions: pursuing my passion and talent for art, or pursuing higher privileges in Jehovah’s organization. The two seemed mutually exclusive in my mind. I soon came to a point where I simply decided that it would be easier not to decide. I simply tried to push it out of my mind and defer giving it my attention. So, I continually stone-walled and evaded questions about college plans.
I was still convinced that the end of this system of things was "just around the corner". I continued to periodically accompany Ed and other Witnesses out in evening field service after school. I also continued to receive encouragement and support from Mario and Jim regarding my service. They always reminded me of the wonderful privileges and rewards of the full time work. Mario had confided in me that he had wished he would have done more when he was younger; and that he regretted not trying going to Bethel. He was now married with responsibilities and was limited in what he could do. He told me that I was in the perfect position as to pursue the spiritual goals that so many brothers wish they had done when they were younger. I always had a deep respect and admiration for Mario, and I respected his advice. His words resonated with me.
There were so many people that I wanted to please and gain the approval of. I wanted to gain the approval of my mom and the elders, but I also felt pained about disappointing the teachers at school who had given me so much encouragement and advice. I felt a close bond with my art teacher and knew that he would be greatly disappointed if I told him that I would not pursue any college. I felt completely torn inside. All I could seem to do was to tell him that I had not decided upon college yet, but the truth was; I had. I knew that I would not pursue a college education, but I never had the heart to tell him this. He wanted me to keep in touch after graduation, but I never did.
I decided that I would try to compromise in some way. I decided that I would become a Regular-Auxiliary pioneer for the time being, and maybe attend some classes at a community college. I also had a desire to go to Bethel someday. I was still confused about exactly what I wanted to do with my life, and could not seem to put together any clear-cut goals or plans.
Somehow, I was able to take my passion and talent for art and stuff into a vacant corner of myself so that I did not have to think about it. I reasoned with myself that I could pursue it in the new system. Why frustrate myself, I asked. So, I graduated high school with really no clear goals, other than a desire to someday go to Bethel.
As I got several months into my Regular-Auxiliary service, I seemed to forget about the art stuff, and sort of settled into a groove. I was getting in my required hours, and having some success. I was continuing to gain the admiration of many people in the congregation, which felt very gratifying. I began to feel reassured that I was on the right path after all. I seemed to go through a transition where I was finally able to make a clear-cut decision to pursue the full-time ministry once a for all. I decided that I would transition into being a Regular Pioneer, and eventually apply for Bethel service.
When I made these decisions known to others, it seemed to increase the amount of admiration that was directed my way. One elder privately confided in me that I was his favorite youth in the congregation. Such words had a deep and lasting impact on me since I never really felt loved by my dad. My speaking abilities continued to advance, which brought me more compliments. I felt reassured that I made the right decision in turning down college and devoting myself whole-heatedly to Jehovah’s organization. What kind of life could be more enriching, satisfying, and rewarding than serving Jehovah in the full-time work anyway? I had become convinced that being a Regular Pioneer would be the "happiest career" one could possibly have - right?
As it turns out, it didn’t quite turn out that way. While serving as a Regular Pioneer, and eventually as a Ministerial Servant, I began to confront some serious problems with my faith for the first time in my life. I also began to see and experience some very discouraging aspects in the organization which I had not seen before. In my next thread (Part 4), I will discuss these issues.
To be continued . . . . .
