The word deprogram was first coined in 1973. The term brainwashing comes from the Mandarin phrase xinaoxi nao and was used to explain the Chinese Communists’ efforts in what we might refer to today as ‘thought reform’ during the Communist Revolution in 1949. These words are emotionally laden terms that contain implications of coercion, scarring, and loss of innocence. In reading about various definitions of deprogramming, I thought about my own actions as an unintentional deprogrammer recently. I was going to post about it, but then I thought about times in my life that I have been deprogrammed. At first, I thought it was only once, but in looking at the defintion, I have been deprogrammed, or more correctly stated reprogrammed three times in my life. Before talking about my initial reaction, here is the first of the three reprogrammings that I remember.
Introducing God
Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full. I tell you, not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’
In my sophmore year in college, I was on the verge of flunking out. Actually, I knew I was going to flunk out because I had not been to class in over a year. I lied to my father about attending classes and about how things were going. I even went through the process of buying books and paying tuition, just so I could stay in the dorms. I was a brooding mess – I rarely left my room.
However, at the beginning of the spring semester, the effects of dragging myself out of bed to a Bible discussion group were beginning to take hold. I decided in late January of that year to finally attend Sunday church after two guys downstairs begged me to go for over a year. I found a group of people that were happy and that pretty much accepted me as I was. It was fun to be around people that actually loved life. I spent my nights wandering the park next to my dormitory. I probably scared a few homeless people sleeping there because of my skulking and/or screaming. Being around these happy people grated me to some extent, but it was because I wanted to avoid completely losing my mind. I was well aware that I was in a dark place.
I always thank God that my friends (and they are friends still) stood by me during this time. They encouraged me to pray and try anything to go to class and try to make up for a lack of attendance. I wished I had listened to them at that time. What I did listen to, however, was the personal times of Bible study we had off and on for almost 18 months. We had no disagreement about the definition of a Christian. After that study, I gladly confessed that I was not a Christian. They used the word disciple and insisted on my using it – in time, I did. Not only was I not a Christian, but I definitely was not a disciple(htpd). I was relieved to be honest about my so-called Christianity and strove to be genuine in everything. I knew that I was a liar and a fake: I just wanted to be something different. I wanted to be real like my friends.
We talked about the role of the Bible in our lives, and I eagerly began reading it again. I had studied it as a child, but never attained any insight until now. I was genuinely excited to read and to pray. I attended every service and loved to be around a group of people that lived Acts 2:42-44. It was a wonderful time.
Conversation moved on to darker areas of my life and I was reluctant to open up. I loved my friends, but I was convinced that my personal darkness was too much for them to handle. I truly loved them, but I thought of them as simple-minded. (At that time, I considered everyone simple-minded but me.) To my surprise, when I opened up a little bit about it, they were quite understanding. One of my friends understood some of my darkness very well and we would talk for hours. I still think fondly of this man, though he is no longer a part of my fellowship of churches. It was wonderful to open up about things that I had never shared with anyone before. It was a great relief to get all the pain off of my heart. To help me, I was encouraged to write it all down. In order to deal with the sin in my life, I was also encouraged to define a list of sins in the dictionary. I looked forward to continued discussion on this, but was chastised three times for not writing it down. The first time, I explained that I wanted to talk about it but not write it down. I was strongly encouraged to write these things down anyway. The second time, I was corrected (but not rebuked) by someone that was obviously exasperated with me. My two friends begged me to simply write everything down so that we could ‘move on’. (I knew that there was a study series and that I was part of the way through it. I had bragged to another person that I was ‘ahead’ of them in the studies. When she got baptized before me, I was openly angry and jealous.) I finally decided to do what they asked, if only to continue discussing my sin and darkness. When I arrived next time, I was shocked to hear the frankness of the others about their sin, but I was also encouraged to share without hesitation. However, when I did not confess that I was somehow addicted to masturbation, I was accused of being a liar, which I had openly confessed. I was grilled over and over about all manner of sexual deviancies, some of which I had never heard of. No one could believe that I simply did not think about sex all the time and I began to be scared that I was abnormal because of it. I again confessed of some heavy petting I did in high school trying to fit in. I had to give names and times and how many women had I done that to. When they realized that there wasn’t any other sexual sin to confess, I was then informed that I had possibly destroyed this woman’s chance of finding God because I was selfish. After more warnings and rebukes to be sexually pure, I was given an assessment of what my true sinful nature:
I was a liar and a cheat. I was an arrogant man that took pride in his own intelligence. I was prone to fits of rage when I didn’t get my way and used my rage as a weapon to intimidate others.
I wept bitterly at my own shortcomings, but was glad to finally discuss all the things on my heart. I asked if my anger was a sin and I remember something was said about fits of rage, but I don’t remember. They didn’t take my written treatise about my sin. I was encouraged to keep it to myself as a reminder of the spiritual struggle ahead. Tired and upset, I went back to my room and went to bed.
Over the next couple days I grappled with my own sin. I saw sin in everything I did and tried as hard as I could to ‘go about meekly’ like King Ahab. I said little, I moped about the park. I cried quite a bit. When we finally got together again, I was asked about my sin and I babbled on about something for the better part of an hour. I was so glad to see people that understood what I was feeling. We then read the Bible and talked about walking in the light and Heaven. What a relief! To talk about the good that God has planned for me and how God really loves me despite the ugliness of my sin. I had decided that 1 Peter 2 was the best chapter in the Bible. I was excited to be happy again and not hopeless like I had been the previous days. Church became more fun and I talked about ‘coming out of the darkness’ and becoming a disciple. I believed that I could do it and was grateful that God and His people believed in me.
One day when the other were preaching by the brickyard, I asked if I could join. While the others spoke gently and honorably, I was offended by the crowd’s indifference. When my turn came, I let them have it! I called them ‘stone-hearted jokers’ that obviously didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. I was encouraged to stop speaking, but eventually had to be restrained. I truly did get carried away and I am embarassed that I ever did that. My friends were kind, though, and never made me feel guilty about losing control like that.
When I studied the Bible again, we talked about church and what it should be. I had seen the church and had no problem with identifying it as following the biblical pattern. There was love, relationship, and devotion to the Bible. It was fantastic and I wanted to be a part of it quite badly. A week later, we studied the ‘kingdom’ and although a bit odd, I enjoyed something that was finally more of an intellectual challenge. My background had no mention of the four kingdoms, nor about how history fit into the Old Testament. It was truly fascinating. I asked when I could be baptized and I was told the time was near; we just had to finish a couple more studies.
When we met again after my asking, the discussion was a difficult one – however, I was talking to the Lead Evangelist and my friends of two years, so I felt a strong desire to give them the benefit of the doubt. We talked about who is saved and who isn’t saved. I had no problem in admitting my own lack of salvation. I was emphatic that I wanted to be saved as soon as possible. ‘Look there’s water,’ I said, ‘what is your problem that you are waiting so long?’ However, the conversation went away from me and on to others. We reviewed all the studies we had gone through over the past months: the Word of God, Light and Darkness, the Church, and Discipleship. They explained that if only baptized disciple were going to saved (i.e. go to Heaven), then anyone else must logical be ‘not saved’ (i.e. go to Hell). This made sense to me, but was upset when we started naming names. We named whole congregations and churches at first, but then narrowed down to my grandparents and parents, my brother and my other relatives. We even talked about Mother Theresa at some point.
I have to admit that I was not comfortable in thinking about my parents as going to Hell. I especially was disturbed by the thought of everyone around me going to Hell. I knew that I had to save my family somehow and I might be able to help a few others as well. But I thought about that a lot. The man that introduced me to God, in fact, had never known him, I thought. I remembered my previous ‘baptism’ and got angry that no one told me the truth, especially the truth as my friends had presented it to me. Later, when I tried to save my family, I said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have. No one told me to say these things, I did it out of my own zeal and ignorance. My friends did comfort me, though, that they weren’t dead, so God would change their hearts eventually.
I had cold feet the day I was baptized, but my friend was encouraging and he said that he believed in me. I was afraid that like everything else in my life, I was going to give it six months and quit. I thought about the consequences of quitting and equated it to eternity in Hell and desolate loneliness on Earth. I quickly decided that Heaven was a much better option.
I have been a Christian ever since. Sometimes, I have even been a disciple(htpd). I am not upset that I became a Christian and I thank God everyday for the love of my friends and his mercy that I have come to know him. I do not regret my decision to join this church, and I believe that I will be a part of it for a long time. I want others to be a part of my church here in my city. I mention this instance of reprogramming only because I believe that good came from it. However, it qualifies as it contians deprogramming content that focuses on some truth, some truth taken out of context (which makes it untrue) and some outright fabrications. Just because I am glad about the end result doesn’t change that fact.