|
This is an article from the March 18th, 1999 issue of the
University of Portland's weekly news paper
"The Beacon"
Posted with permission of the author, Jenny
Schroedel.

Controversial group recruiting on campus
by Jenny Schroedel
for The Beacon
Most of the students on campus
slept while two women sat in the
Mehling lounge with bright early
morning light on their faces.
Cherie Rainwater, a UP fresh-
man, looked at the woman sitting
on the couch kitty-corner to her and
asked, "Who is in the Kingdom and
who isn't?"
That was Sept. 21, 1996. Rain-
water had a lot to learn.
She did not know that this
woman was leading her through 15
prepared Bible studies culminating
in baptism. She did not know that
she would eventually be expected
to make a list of her sins and share
them with one of the church's lead-
ers. She did not know that if she
joined this church, her weekly com-
mitment to services and activities
would be about 30 hours a week,
and she would be expected to tithe
10 percent of her weekly income.
Once a year, she would have to
make a "special missions offering,"
which could be from 15 to 20 times
her weekly tithe.
Rainwater is one of many stu-
|
dents who have been pursued by the
International Church of Christ on
campus. Currently; an undisclosed
number of UP students are express-
ing interest in this unique church.
The ICC has been banned from
more than 20 American universi-
ties because of its aggressive re-
cruiting techniques. The ICC broke
away from the mainline Church of
Christ in 1979. Like many Chris-
tian Churches, the ICC believes that
Jesus is God and Savior. It believes
the Bible is the inherent message of
God inspired by the Holy Spirit.
Believers also say that after bap-
tism every new Christian needs to
be "discipled" by another member.
They teach that only baptized dis-
ciples are members-of Christ's
Church. The ICC does charity work
throughout the world through its
official charity arm, HOPE World-
wide. According to international
spokesperson Al Baird, the ICC is
the fastest growing church in the
world.
But critics claim the ICC is a
cult.
|
Kent Burtner, who has coun-
selled numerous former cult mem-
bers, said the ICC targets people
who are vulnerable, like college
freshmen. He said the Bible studies
are designed to hit on every sin a
person may have committed, to
overwhelm potential recruits with a
sense of guilt and inadequacy.
"The message is 'you failed, you
don't have anything better, but I'11
show you something better. Here's
the way,"' Burtner said.
Meanwhile, warm loving friends
shower you with affection and sup-
port, he added. Cult critics call this
part of the process "love bombing."
"The corruption of the individual
is the ultimate tragedy, the loss of
the creative choices that person
could have made," Burtner said.
The Rev. Ed Obermiller, C.S.C,
director of campus ministry, ex-
pressed similar concerns about the
ICC after a student complained to
him about daily phone calls from an
ICC member.
"When there's not a choice there,
or its seen as the only way ... that's
|

a warning sign," Obermiller said.
Ex-member Lewis Johnson
joined the ICC in Portland while
recovering from a drug addiction.
He said the ICC helped him stay
clean because of the accountability
it offered. But he is concerned about
the weekly tithing and special mis-
sions offering. He says the burden
falls heavy on college students, who
often live together in cramped con-
ditions.
"One of the guys staying at one
of these houses was kind of weirded
out that I had food in the fridge,"
Johnson said.
Meanwhile, the ICC's leader,
Kip McKean, lives in Pacific Pali-
sades, an exclusive gated commu-
nity outside Los Angeles. He sends
his three children to Brentwood
Academy, a private school that
charges about $12,000 per year per
child. His housing was purchased
by the ICC for $483,000.
"And where's it all coming
from?" Johnson asked. ''It's com-
ing from people sleeping on mat- .
tresses on the floor and eating
|
Ramen noodles."
Baird said the ICC does not put
an unfair burden on any of its mem-
bers. In Los Angeles, the special
missions offering is 20 times your
weekly tithe, he said. Members have
a year to save, and the church gives
suggestions to help members pay
this offering, such as working a few
extra hours, not buying an extra pair
of Nikes, or cutting off cable ser-
vice, he said.
Baird was questioned about a
1998 special missions contribution
suggestion list included on a web
page posted for the American Com-
monwealth Region (New England).
The statement included suggestions
such as taking out loans, liquidating
savings, selling stock and donating
plasma. Baird said the church is
against taking out loans, but that
people can be very creative in the
ways they raise funds for the spe-
cial missions offering.
"I have known several people
that have given blood. I don't ad-
|
|

vise that, but I wouldn't be against
that," said Baird, who sold his home
one year to raise funds for the spe
cial missions offering.
"What we're trying to do and be
is an ultimate submission to God,"
Baird said.
This ultimate submission is not
just about money, though.
Sometimes members sacrifice
sleep. After six months of sleeping
six hours a night, staying up late
because of church activities, rising
early to study the Bible, and putting
in 10 hours a day at work, ex-mem-
ber Johnson was ragged.
"Constantly getting six hours of
sleep a night gives you glassy eyes
and dark circles under your eyes,"
Johnson said.
He was looking so worn that
two years ago his boss at work pulled
him aside and asked if he was doing
drugs again because of his appear-
ance and work performance. "I was
sluggish and forgetful," Johnson
said.
One student on campus who is a
member of the ICC made daily
phone calls to another student she
was attempting to recruit. The stu-
dent was polite, but expressed no
interest in joining the ICC. Two
times calls came at midnight. The
ICC UP student started requesting
that her potential recruit call her
every morning at 6 a.m. to report
what she was learning in her quiet
times.
According to Burtner, sleep dep-
rivation is a common tool employed
by cults. Tools like this help to
short-circuit a person's thinking
process, he added. A cult strives to
make a person ignore the little red
flags going off in their mind; to
discredit the ability to discern.
"It is an assault on your emo-
tions much more than an attack on
your intellect," Burtner said. "It be-
|
comes a profoundly ethical ques-
tion," Burtner said. "Ethics is now
redefined. It is defined as 'that is
ethical which is beneficial to the
well-being of the group.'"
Last week at Elmer's, Rainwater
paged through her journal trying to
remember what it was like when the

"If it makes you feel
more dead than
alive ... get out."
Todd Pozycki
Former ICC member

ICC pursued her. She left UP after
spending last year in Salzburg. She
is now a student at Multnomah Bible
College. She never did join the ICC.
After one of her Bible studies,
Rainwater was given an assignment.
She was to take a list of sins home
with her. As she looked over the
list, she was expected to remember
all of her sins and write them down.
She began to have a funny feeling
about the ICC, which was confirmed
when she met with the friend who
was leading her into the church.
Rainwater was told that before she
was baptized, she would meet with
the women's leader at the church
and confess her sins to her. Rainwa-
ter was also told that the leader
"would help her to realize feelings
she didn't know she had."
Rainwater was told that people
outside of the ICC were not Chris-
tians, and that the people at the
Athena Christian Church, which she
attended during high school, were
deceived. She was told that the King-
|
dom was here and now, and she
wasn't a part of it.
That was Oct. 13, 1996. As her
friend drove her home to UP, Rain-
water told her she thought the ICC
was wrong and she didn't want to
be a part of it. She got out of the car
and walked up to her Mehling dorm
room. She hasn't heard from that
friend since.
According to Burtner, the meth-
ods employed by the ICC are part of
a much larger phenomenon. He said
diverse groups with different ide-
ologies can be described as cults if
they employ basic cultic methods.
Burtner began his cult research
with the Moonies. After being
quoted in an article, he got phone
calls from a variety of people who
said things to him like, "I know you
were talking about the Moonies,
but my daughter just joined another
group and her behavior and person-
ality have changed in the same way."
Burtner began to extend his re-
search to other groups, and he found
that some non-religious personality
improvement groups could be clas-
sified as cults. He found that the
advice he offered to parents who
joined one group could be equally
useful to parents whose children
joined other groups.
"That was my wake-up call,"
Burtner said. "I began to see that we
were dealing with a cultural phe-
nomenon."
Todd Pozycki, an ex-ICC mem-
ber who lives in Portland, had this
word of advice to college students
about the ICC: "Know that being a
part of this church means dying,
seriously dying. You don't have a
life anymore. My philosophy has
become 'live and let live.' If being
a part of the church makes you
happy, then go for it. But as I learned,
if it makes you feel more dead than
alive ... get out."
|
©1999 by Jenny Schroedel, University of Portland Beacon. All rights reserved.
|