The Same Old Lies

Thoughts from someone who left a Christian cult only to see the fundamentalist ideology continue to expand.

I dodged through the crowds at Cedar Point hoping to lose the teenage boy following me, but he was persistent and eventually caught up. I’d gotten a cartilage piercing a few weeks earlier at the end of summer camp, and now an old friend was literally chasing me down. When he found me, I got a long lecture about the dangers of worldliness. I was twenty-one years old; he was four or five years younger.

If I had to pick one moment when I knew I was done, this is it. I was already questioning, already rebelling, and already finding my own way forward, but this is when my heart walked away for good. My still-long hair hid the piercing most of the time. I even taught a final Children’s Seminar for the Institute that fall and no one was the wiser. But every time I tucked my hair behind my ears and caught the glitter of that earing, I remembered.

I was free.

Getting a public lecture about godliness from a pubescent boy who thought he was better than me gave me the final motivation I needed. They were crazy, and I was done.

That fall I started secular college. This was unheard of in the cult, especially for a female. I still wore long jean jumpers and had a head full of fundamental ideas that first year. Much to my parents’ concern, I also befriended Dan the Dragon Man who sported a black trench coat, dragon t-shirts, and combat boots. He was a total gentleman.

It was a step, the first of many.

Two years later, in 2004, I was living downstate with my aunt and uncle, nannying for their two boys, working on my teaching degree, and getting better at navigating the real life. I looked relatively mainstream by then and people were starting to be surprised that I’d been homeschooled. As I explored the world and discovered the many normal people who lived in it, my cult felt increasingly smaller and farther away. Then the Duggar family showed up on TLC.

Many people in mainstream culture were fascinated by this enormous family, their obedient children, and the unique way they lived life. I was horrified. Although I struggled to find words at the time to explain my horror, I recognized them. I’d spent years in a church with these kinds of families. I knew why the children were obedient. I was familiar with Michelle’s sweet voice, their homeschool curriculum, and the clothes they wore. I understood the reasoning behind the huge collars on the girls’ dresses and why the boys’ polo shirts were always tucked into their slacks.

It was all frighteningly familiar.

I didn’t have language to explain myself for years. Almost a decade went by before I understood my own experiences and was able to rightfully call our homeschooling organization a cult. All I knew was that the Duggar family made me incredibly angry.

As the truth about the Duggars came out over the years, I’ve never been surprised. Honestly, I expected it. Because I knew what was really going on in many of those large, Gothard families in our cultic church. I knew about the ugliness the religiosity was attempting to cover up. I’d lived the fear and desire for control.

It’s awfully hard for me to watch normal people accept and celebrate damaging ideology from my cult days. It was hard in 2004 and it’s equally hard twenty years later.

I escaped a culture of extreme patriarchy and trad wives. Although my own father never fully embraced their ideas, the men around us saw women as less than. Women were bound to a specific, narrow role of wife and mother. Women didn’t have voices or opinions. We weren’t supposed to be strong or capable unless it was domestically. We could be good at baking bread, sewing, raising children, gardening, and homeschooling as long as we did it with a quiet and gentle spirit. Women didn’t have access to higher education or careers. We didn’t even have direct access to God—according to the blasted umbrella diagram—without going through a man. Men ran the show, and women submitted. Men were the leaders, and women were the helpers.

Lies—they were all lies. As I met Jesus for myself, and He drew me into a genuine relationship, I learned to embrace my natural strength as good. I learned to have a voice. And I discovered ways to view women as valuable and equal that are even more biblical and accurate. It took twenty years.

I escaped a culture of Christian Nationalism. I grew up believing that if we could take over the world and make them follow our rules, everyone would be happy. I knew that if the worldly people would abandon their evil actions and follow God’s Law, our culture would be healed. I thought that having enough power to make people do things our way would result in blessings and success for everyone.

But Jesus never forced anyone to follow the religious leaders’ rules. He refused to get into power struggles. Jesus specifically told His disciples that His kingdom was not of this world. He taught them to serve scandalously, be last, touch the shameful and unclean, value the outcasts, and live humble lives in the middle of political chaos.

I escaped legalistic religiosity. Faith in the cult was incredibly formulaic. Every blessing or curse had an antecedent that could be traced back to something we did or didn’t do. Every sin could be controlled and hidden if we followed specific steps. Obeying the rules—and the rules to help us obey the rules—was evidence of godly hearts. We were better than everyone else because we knew the truth. Every action, word, and thought was either black or white, right or wrong. We were excellent at judging everyone around us while always defending ourselves.

I celebrate my freedom from this old mindset. The god I used to follow and the God I know now aren’t even close to being the same. Freedom is knowing I don’t need to appease God with my good deeds. It is allowing Him to slather me with love and grace when I least deserve it. Freedom is the Spirit of God mysteriously and miraculously changing my heart from the inside out, healing the broken places, and transforming me into the person I was created to be.

I spent a decade in a suffocating, legalistic, fear-based, controlling, Christian cult. And then I got out. I found freedom, and I met Jesus.

I cannot even begin to describe how frustrating and terrifying it is for me to watch as the old ideologies and lies are spread and believed by new people. And thanks to social media and the internet, they are going further and faster than ever. I shared this on Threads the other day and asked what it is that makes these lies and ideologies so attractive over and over again. Here is what some people said:

“It’s easier to live with clear rules and binaries. Instead of learning how things work it’s easier to embrace superstitions and conspiracy theories. Fundamentalism promises certainty and always being able to know you’re on the winning team and even if the lifestyle is stifling it feels good to know you’re right.”

– Seth

“In a word: control. Real Christianity is about surrender, but people want to be in charge of their own lives.”

– Hendrick

“We have a search for “certitude” and we don’t like mystery. Rigid systems have an attraction, even if we look at them later and go, “HUH?” Power. When systems feel power slipping away, they double down. Over and over.

– Daniel

“A lot of them don’t question anything because that system has either worked out for them and they’ve never faced any hardship, or they are so tied up in it that they are fearful of the repercussions.”

– Ashley

“Some, but not all, I think it is a trauma response. I think this is true of both individual and corporate traumas. I think historically you can point to conservative/fundamentalist/authoritarian movements often arising after difficult times. Trauma messes with people’s ability to discern danger properly. And so they turn to authoritarian systems to keep them safe because they lack capacity to rightly understand both external and internal danger.”

– Adam

“Mostly, I think it’s that people want easy answers in a complex world.”

– Phil

“Power and control. All of these things offer the idea that you can control and have power over others somehow and we think we need power more than we need to love.”

– Bonnie

I agree. And I also think that fear is a huge driving force behind people accepting these conservative, fundamental beliefs. People are scared and want to feel control and certainty. Fundamentalist ideas of any type offer certainty, even if it is false certainty. Belonging to a group also feels safer.

But safe certainty isn’t something we can get through more power and control. We end up being controlled instead. It’s a false illusion. It doesn’t really work. I know; I was there.

So I will continue to share my story and talk about the dangers of things like religious legalism, Christian nationalism, and patriarchy. Hopefully I will do it with a heart that understands the fear that makes these lies seem so true and feel so attractive. Because I know; I lived it.

The messy middle—the awkward way of grace and truth—isn’t always concrete. It’s full of paradox, tension, and mystery. We have to say, “I don’t know” sometimes. We change our minds about things. It’s a journey and an adventure and not a rigid way of life. But it’s good.

I love my journey with the Real Jesus. I love the lavish grace He gives, the scandalous love He pours out, and the patience He holds. I love the ways He has already transformed my heart and the ways I know He will in the future. It’s not safe. He isn’t always safe. But He, and my adventures with Him, are always good.

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, questions, or comments. You can find me on Threads, Instagram, Facebook, Substack and on my original podcast. I’d love to connect with you on any of these places!