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Dear Friend,
Lately I've been writing about the cult which influenced me during my youth. Recent events have prompted me to sift through my memories and decipher to what degree my heart was manipulated during my teen years. You can read my previous posts on this topic here and here.
Do I still carry remnants of the teachings within me? How much of it is good and true? What parts are harmful? I need clarity, so I'm turning to my blog for therapy. It's taking me some time to piece everything together. Today I'll focus on my first ministry excursion.
Lately I've been writing about the cult which influenced me during my youth. Recent events have prompted me to sift through my memories and decipher to what degree my heart was manipulated during my teen years. You can read my previous posts on this topic here and here.
Do I still carry remnants of the teachings within me? How much of it is good and true? What parts are harmful? I need clarity, so I'm turning to my blog for therapy. It's taking me some time to piece everything together. Today I'll focus on my first ministry excursion.
In the Spring of 1993, when I was sixteen, I spent two months in Moscow, Russia with a team of students who were enrolled in Bill Gothard’s homeschool program, the Advanced Training Institute (ATI). We had been invited by Russian President Boris Yeltzin and Galina Venidictova, a senior member of Moscow's Ministry of Education. We were authorized to implement Gothard's Basic Life Principals program in 2,000 Moscow public schools.
View from the stern of the Nikolai Bauman |
A performance of Russian school children in Moscow, 1993. |
I was only sixteen. You might think I was a brilliant scholar -- a promising academic! But Gothard taught that higher learning was a spiritual "high place" to be avoided. Better to be ignorant and humble; better to be pliable. You might think my parents were well-known Institute benefactors with "pull." But no -- my dad worked in a can factory; my mom was a homemaker. When my invitation came in the mail, we were all as astonished as if I had been invited to a royal ball.
I can only think of one reason I received that invite: In the summer of 1992 I made a commitment to "courtship" at the ATI conference in Knoxville, TN. I was urged my Mr. Gothard to sign my name on a courtship commitment card. During a prayerful moment (with every head bowed and every eye closed), I resolutely placed the card in a basket that was passed down the row. Ushers delivered the names of prospective pawns directly to Mr. Gothard.
So in essence, I won the lottery! I had dreamed of traveling to Europe since I first saw it on a map in grade school. Mr. Gothard was going to take me there.
Trying my best to communicate on the street in Moscow. |
I've kept all the gifts which were given to me by my Russian friends -- even the icons, though we were instructed not to keep them. When I first arrived at the Nikolai Bauman, our floating home on the Moskva River, I found a list of guidelines in my room.
Rule # 14: Many times you will receive gifts such as pictures of icons. (Accept these graciously, but please do not keep them.) Give them to your team leader to dispose of. Do not throw them away in the garbage can in your room, as this might offend some of the Russian crew members who clean the rooms.
I'm have a post card icon next to my laptop right now. It is "The Savior Wearing a Crown of Thorns" by Vassili Poznanzky, 1682.
There's writing on the back: "To my dear dear Adriana -- Thank you for being my friend and sister in Christ. I Love you. Your, Helen."
How could I ever hand that over for a team leader to dispose of?
I wonder what Father Gleb Yakunin, Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Soviet Standing Committee on Freedom of Religion and Conscience, would have thought of the command to destroy icons. He had been instrumental in getting us in the door. Would Bill Gothard have been sent packing?
Russian Christians were weary from years of persecution. There were an estimated 12-20 million victims of Soviet state atheist policies in the years preceding our visit. I had no idea how grave the situation had been. I passed toppled statues of Vladimir Lenin on the streets. What did it all mean? I was naive. I can only imagine how precious religious icons were to Russian Christians during the dark years. For many, printing icons on postcards was their first taste of religious freedom! -- So precious they gave them as gifts.
Perhaps the moment I tucked the icon inside my suitcase was the moment I began to drift from Gothard's fold.
Hope you are enjoying these first days of spring!
Next time I'll attempt to explain the whole "courtship" thing as I understood it at the time. Also I'll tell you about my one private face to face encounter with Bill Gothard.
Blessings,
Adriana