Cult Busters

Gary wanted a lift to work at 7 o' clock in the morning. He had explained that the hospital where he worked was in an awkward location and that it would take an hour and a half to get to by public transport. I don't think anyone had ever pointed out to him that you could walk there in 45 minutes. Anyway, I preferred to get to work early so I had given him a lift. On the way back, an old man was standing at the traffic lights. It looked strange. He seemed to be watching the cars, waiting for one to stop next to him. The lights changed to red. I stopped. He put his hand on the door handle and opened the passenger door.
"I'm Mr Young," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not going to steal the car. I just want a lift home." Mr Young looked so old and frail that he didn't seem capable of either hurting me or driving the car. I followed his directions to a big house in a huge garden, troubled by the fact that this car was much too old to have central locking and that maybe the big Jesus stickers on the sides made locals think we provided a taxi service. He opened the passenger door to get out. "Fancy coming inside for a cup of tea?" asked Mr Young. It was only half past seven. I had plenty of time before work. I was also fascinated by this man and his big house.
"Yes, why not?" I followed him into the kitchen where he made us both a cup of coffee. We sat down to drink together at a small round kitchen table. As I took my first sip, Mr Young said,
"It is possible for you to leave."
"Are you the Cult Busters?"
"Some people call us that, yes. You might want to stick around and join my wife for a therapy session. It's going to start at half past nine."

I decided to stay. Work was usually quiet. I worked in a subsidised church company that was over manned. One employee wouldn't be missed. I didn't want to phone up the manager and tell him where I was. I'd go in this afternoon and, if anyone asked, it was a fine day and I'd decided to go for a walk in the woods. I had a walk around the grounds of this huge house. It had large lawns and a little copse of trees. I then came back into the house and joined the group of people who had gathered in the lounge. I saw a woman I recognised.
"Hello Sam."
"I've been disfellowshipped. You're not allowed to speak to me."
"I believe that rules are made to be broken."
"Do you? Matthew, if you want to leave the church Peter and Looey will help you. They really helped me. They helped me get a flat, well, the room in a shared house that I call home, they helped me open a bank account."
"I'm quite happy living in community."
"Are you?" 

Mrs Young arrived for the therapy session. She was at least eighty but still looked strangely attractive. She was smartly dressed and her face seemed to shine with some sort of inner beauty.
"Are you Mrs Young?"
"Yes. I'm the psychologist who leads the group."
"Are you a psychologist? Do you have any medical qualifications?"
"I worked in a psychiatric hospital for forty years. I was a trained nurse. When I retired I did a degree in Psychology and then did a PHD in people who had been involved in cults. My full title is Professor Louisa May Young. I'm a lecturer at the local university. But everybody calls me Looey." Looey sat down on a big armchair in the middle of the room. "Right, who would like to start? Does anybody have anything to say about Pastor Boris and his community?"
"I'm happy living in community," I said. It went very quiet for a few seconds. Looey broke the silence.
"No, you're not. You're accommadated to living in community. You think the way that they think. You feel the way that they feel. You're like a little dog that's been trained to think and act in a certain way."
"If I was a little dog and I had been trained to think and act as a family pet, I would still be a happy dog. Pastor Boris might have some serious problems with his leadership style but he's not a child abuser, he's not capable of mass murder and he wouldn't know how to brainwash anyone. You've got to be really well organised to brainwash people and he doesn't have the necessary level of intelligence."
"And you think that makes him all right?"
"Yes. I think that makes him all right. There's nothing wrong with having a church where you can't have a holiday and can't have a television, the women have to have their hair long and a single person might be expected to make a vow of celibacy. Not as long as everybody understands what the church is like and that's what God has called them to do."
"Matthew, do you think anybody in our community knows what they're letting themselves in for?" asked Barbara. "I just wanted to live on the farm with my friends. Then they told me that I had to close my bank account and put all my money into the church bank account."
"Try saying no sometimes."
"Say no to Pastor Boris?"
"I wanted to leave the community," said Nichola, "but I was frightened of going to Hell."
"I don't believe that any Christian who lives in a flat on their own will go to Hell."
"Pastor Boris does."
"Why is it that so many ex-members of our church are convinced that they are going to Hell?"
"Matthew, going to Heaven is very difficult," said Helen. "You have to live very simply and give away nearly all of your money to the poor. Few people have ever done this."
"Heaven is going to be a lonely place for Pastor Boris and our community."

I left the meeting and arrived at work at lunchtime. I still had my home made sandwiches in a plastic carrier bag. I sat down and ate them and started talking to Fred.
"Fred, have you ever heard of a group called the Cult Busters?"
"I've heard of them. What have you heard about them?"
"I've heard rumours that they help people leave the church, that they help them open bank accounts and help them find somewhere to live."
"Who told you these rumours?"
"All right, I've been talking to Sam."
"Sam has been disfellowshipped. As you're madly in love her, and couldn't make your vow of celibacy until you had convinced yourself that Sam didn't want to marry you, I suppose we can forgive you for talking to Sam. Where did you meet her?"
"I went into a pub for an orange juice."
"You know we're not allowed to go to pubs."
"I sat next to her on the bus."
"You drive everywhere."
"She phoned me."
"Her number is blocked on everyone's phone."
"I was walking through the woods."
"Scrambling up a bank in your hiker's boots in a place twenty miles away, where no one would ever go unless they lived locally and were walking the dog?"
"She lives in Chapeltown and she was walking the dog."
"Very unlikely."
"All right, I went to their meeting. But only because Mr Young hijacked my car."
"Did he hop in when you stopped at a red light?"
"Yes. We should report Mr Young to the police."
"Matthew, the police are investigating us and the BBC think we're a cult.  No one is interested in the antics of Professor Louisa May Young and her hijacker husband trying to reprogram members of our church. They probably think it's a good idea."
"We should be suing the BBC for reputational damage."
"Matthew, our reputation is so terrible that I don't see how a series of BBC documentaries entitled, 'Inside the World's Most Dangerous Cult Since Jim Jones or the Moonies,' could possibly make it any worse. Why did you go to their meeting? Mr Young could hardly have immobilised your car. Quite apart from being 87 years old, he doesn't understand cars. When he was a member of our church and lived with me at the farm he cut his hand when he was trying to top up the oil. There was nothing to prevent you driving straight home."
"I went to that meeting and told them that I was happy living in community. That psychologist tried to tell me that I wasn't but I told her that I was. I told them it wasn't a cult."
"Well done Matthew, I thought you had become a Judas, I thought you had left this church. I'm glad we don't have to disfellowship you. I'm the church's IT Deacon. I'd have to block your number on 150 mobile phones."