I have been reading through the RA site here and there, and in the beginning, I will be honest, my thoughts were something like, “Well, good for them. They are hurting and finding a way to work through it.” But I felt disconnected. It has been 15 years since I was part of TM, before all the abbreviations and fancy names, and I had long since done my own healing and processing, and reentered Real Life. The remnants of TM in my mind and heart were only good, soft-focus memories that involved the people I still call friends today. We are all cut from a similar cloth and if we ever happen to mention or talk about TM, we mainly talk about the ways we broke the rules or pushed the limits or created rules for the classes that followed. Yes, that was us, sorry about that.
See, when I was an intern, we were still called “interns” then, pure and simple title, we still had Character Development classes at Ron’s house. We still called Ron by his first name, and babysat his two little girls (Cameron was born that year), and folded his laundry (the underwear too!). Ron still spent one morning every week “touring” the offices, which involved him wandering around our cubicles pulling pranks on us like giving wet willies while we were on a professional call, or pulling the girls’ hair and then running away. It was a fun environment for an 18 year old who was thrust into a professional working world with long hours, late nights, and a class and homework load on top of it.
I will be honest, I learned a lot. But most of it was due to the fact that TM looked nothing like it looks now. This was before Hasz, people. I remember when he came on staff. I was part of staff briefly after my internship, so I had to work with him for a short time. One of his first orders of business was to put the kibosh on first-name basis between staff and interns. We were expected to call the CEO “Mr. Luce”. Hell naw. Since he stuck his saliva-covered pinky in my ear four times this year, I think I can call him Ron. Plain old Ron.
Part of what I liked before all of that happened is the accessibility of it all. The staff was living around the corner from our apartment (yes, apartment), and after all, they were only a handful of years older than us anyway. We got our jobs done, but we played hard too. We lived in the community at large, having apartments (where other, non-TM people lived) and getting involved in local coffeehouse and church events. While there were still some MAJOR ideals that were burned into my brain that I had to recover from, it wasn’t nearly what it has become – though when I left I could see it would be taking a turn for the worse.
When I left TM, however, I walked right into another ministry and the abuse that many of you speak of was present and thriving there. Because of what I had learned at TM, I was unaware, or perhaps unbelieving, of the injustice of the situation I put myself in. 80 and 90 hour weeks were common, and I was still told I hadn’t worked enough. Job descriptions were non-existent and we were expected to “do what it takes” to get the job done. Personal life and ministry life were one and the same, and even when I got engaged I was told to plan the wedding during a slow time for the ministry so that I wouldn’t have to take time off and thereby interfere with the work. I repeated to myself things like, “I beat my body and make it my slave” and things that helped me remember that sacrificing ALL, including family, dreams, and self, was what was expected for “the call.” Though I have amazing relationships in my life still to this day that were created there, it doesn’t negate the abuse that occurred, and it has taken me a long time to realize that. I used to think, “Hey, if at least one thing good came out of it then it’s all okay right?”
Then a tragedy happened that caused me to question it all – all the way back to TM days. A dear friend I had grown up with who was living only an hour away from me died in a tragic car accident. I had missed his wedding (though he came to mine), had never met his wife or first child, hadn’t seen him in years… because I was so busy doing God’s work. And as I attended his funeral and looked into his mother’s eyes, I didn’t know what to say. Could I comfort her with all the countries I had traveled to? All the people I had prayed with? Could I excuse my absence from their lives with tales of ministry work? No. I began to ask myself, didn’t Jesus come here to touch people in the simplest of ways? Does He really require that we abandon all, sacrifice all that truly matters, for the sake of some cause? Whatever happened to balance?
I studied great leaders. I found that most, if not all, who had “accomplished” so much in creating or establishing grandiose ministries, lost the things closest to them: family, children, self. They were either tortured, or self-righteous. They stumbled (like all humans do) and were persecuted for it, or they were never discovered and kept secrets hidden for decades. Many had children who wouldn’t even speak to them, or spouses who were distant and hurting. Is this the legacy He would want for us to leave?
I took a long look at my first-born son, who was then only a baby. I knew I did not want that for him. We are called to Love, first and foremost. Actually, that is all we are called to do. Love God. Love others. Love ourselves (don’t forget that most important bit – you can’t love others if you don’t love yourself). (Mark 12:30-31) So why did we muck it all up with this extra crap? How do people get so blinded to the pain and hurt in the people right in front of them – even to the fact that they are causing it?
This goes way beyond TM. Having traveled the world, met and spoken with many of the great Christian leaders in the world, worked with many different denominations and ministries, I have seen similar hurts and pains everywhere. It’s enough to make a person go atheist! Or at the very least, Buddhist. 🙂 But what I mean to say is, the stories on the RA site are valid – not because I evaluated every single individual and their character and backstory blah blah blah. No. Because they come from a place of sharing pain. You cannot diminish anyone’s pain. Ever. If there is a hurting soul, then that is all that needs to be known.
It has even been healing to me to see these stories being shared, and not because I want to get back at TM at all, but for personal reasons. I spent a lot of time surviving and to do that, I had to deny. Deny the hurt that I experienced, and keep the smile on my face. Just remember the good parts and let the rest go. But healing only comes when you walk through the pain and get to the other side. Skipping around it, or pretending it isn’t there brings about more pain, not healing. So this has helped me see the other brave people who are pushing through the pain to achieve the healing, and it has encouraged me to do the same, even all these years later.
It pains me to see the waves of hurt and damaged who have come through TM since those days so long ago when I was there. It pains me even more to see and hear the responses from TM to this knowledge. I wish I could sit down with Katie Luce, with some coffee or tea, and just get down to the bottom of it. It has almost become this living organism of its own that barely resembles what it was born from. I have nothing but Love for all of you who are hurting and sharing your pain to create awareness and healing. I wish there had been something like this to help me process. Thankfully, I was able to process at least some with the TM alumni that I still call friends. We stand together with you too.
9 comments:
beautifully written. thank you for sharing.
moriah
June 18, 2010 7:41 AM
Lauren said…
Thank you so much for this. It’s somehow encouraging to read about the beginnings of HA, remembering the original humanity that brought interns together. And I agree that it’s important to note that this type of spiritual abuse is prevalent in many ministries. Very unfortunate, but true.
Great words, A.B.
June 18, 2010 11:34 AM
layne said…
I love this. Thank you for writing it.
June 18, 2010 2:00 PM
Anonymous said…
I was an intern the same year as you; thanks for sharing. I find myself nodding along. While there were still teachings that were questionable even then; it was a very different world from what is the HA now.
June 18, 2010 3:00 PM
Jacqueline said…
Thank you A.B.! This really speaks to my heart.
June 18, 2010 3:14 PM
Candor said…
Amazing to see how much it’s changed over the years. Thank you so much for sharing.
“Actually, that is all we are called to do. Love God. Love others. Love ourselves.” So true.
I agree with everyone else. This is beautifully written.
June 18, 2010 5:39 PM
Anonymous said…
I was there then too.
June 18, 2010 5:41 PM
Anonymous said…
Thank you…..
B A
2001
June 18, 2010 7:16 PM
Carol said…
Calling Ron, Mr. Luce – or Mr. President for that matter. I remember Ron telling me to call him Ron, not Mr. Luce, or President Luce. But we weren’t allowed to call him anything by “Mr. somethingoranother” according to Dave.
Thank you for posting this. It really brought back some good memories of the internship (even though I was there in 1997). In ’97, it still had the feel of a small group, even though there were over 100 of us with the combined Aug. and Jan. classes.
June 18, 2010 8:18 PM
Pingback: Allie’s Story, part 1 – Recovering Alumni