Have you ever wondered what cult life is like?
Every time the members gathered, I saw love and belonging in people's eyes as they greeted each other at church events. There wasn't a place in the world they'd rather be. I haven't seen this anywhere else outside of the nuclear family.
Often times I felt exhausted from a long day working to help a fellow church member fix up their house. I'd come home to find fresh homemade sourdough bread on the counter and a pot of Chicken soup on the stove with a note reminding me that, "You are God's best!". From who? It didn't matter, anyone would have gladly done it.
Countless times I smelled coffee mixed with red oak smoke cutting through the chilly September air. Darkness surrounded the orange glow of the fire that almost cast enough light to see people's faces. Each person sat in silence, they hugged coats close and tucked lap blankets under legs on plastic lawn chairs. Loon calls echoed off the lake and provided a soundtrack for the lone voice that uttered the final prayer of the evening.
Many times I heard 150 voices resonate in the wooden floor of the chapel singing the hymn, "Great is thy faithfulness". In perfect heartfelt unison people sang without looking at the songbooks they held before them. Each face was tipped skyward, either to stop tears from running down cheeks or simply hopeful to catch the slightest glimpse of glory.
Plenty of times, I saw The Shepherd's Camp staff gathered around tables in the dining hall on a blizzardy winter eve. Smiling with red cheeks, clad with turtlenecks and sweaters they chatted and laughed. We pinched lamb curry between warm Nan bread cooked in the fire of our traditional Tandoor clay oven.
Once I saw the cult leader backhand a boy across his face. He did this because he thought the boy was talking back to him. When in fact, he misheard the boy. The boy's lip swelled and bled. The leader began to cry and apologize.
Once I saw the leader raise a guitar above his head to smash it because its owner hadn't, "played the guitar for God." He did it with such anger and ferocity that he dented the drywall ceiling above on the upswing. Bang! Bang! Bang! The noise stunned the staff as it shot through the dining hall. He swung it at the floor until it was mangled. Then tossed it into a pile of mahogany splinters.
Many times, I saw him "reprove" or scream at people. He switched from a serious talking voice to yelling with such volume that a baby on the other side of the room would wake up and begin to cry.
One time I began to comment on something he said, only because he asked me what I thought. When I stated that, "we didn't know much about the return of Christ" he interrupted me and said, "speak for yourself Luke. I know a lot about the return." He scowled at me, then he smiled.
This coming-of-age story inside a cult shows a place where love and belonging and purpose coexisted with manipulation and sexual and psychological abuse.

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• Biographies & MemoirsLeaders & Notable PeopleReligiousChristianity

• Publication Date: August 29, 2025
• Text-to-Speech: Disabled
• Lending: Disabled
• Print Length: 316 Pages
• File Size: 610 KB