“Exit Interview” or “How I Finally Rejected My Family and Friends”

I walked in with a six-pack. “Oh, yeah,” my mom said.

After an hour of chit-chat, potato chips and two MGDs (my parents were still nursing their first), there was a lull in the conversation and I jumped in. “So…I wanted to talk to you guys about religion.” My dad’s eyes somehow perked up and lowered simultaneously.

I had left the religion of my upbringing (Jehovah’s Witnesses) several years prior to this talk with my parents, but it never seemed quite official, and wouldn’t be official until I had told them my decision. Of course they knew, but it was never discussed. No one had the guts to bring it up. In this religion, you can’t just leave the faith behind, you must also leave family and friends.

“We’ve never really talked about it and I think it’s important that you know how I feel about God and religion.” My dad nodded ever so slightly and squinted. I’d love to know what was going through his head at that moment.

“I have a hard time believing that any one religion holds a monopoly on truth. How do you know what to accept and what to reject? I believe it’s impossible to really know.” I was relieved that the conversation was finally going to take place after 10 years.

Dad nodded. Mom shifted in her chair.

“How do you know you have the truth?” I asked.

“Its good that you don’t accept anything blindly,” dad said. “I know we have the truth because we do the preaching work. It’s in the Bible.”

“But lots of Christians evangelize,” I countered.

“Every one of the Jehovah’s Witnesses preach. You won’t find that in other religions. But if you don’t believe in the Bible we have a different problem.”

“I don’t.” I glanced over at mom. She looked concerned and supportive, the corner of her mouth smiling. She’s mom, that’s what she does.

I explained to them that I don’t believe the Bible is God’s direct word. I think it is inspired by God, much in the way that a sunset or a beautiful woman inspire a poem. The sunset didn’t write the poem, but there would be no poem with the sunset. I was proud of that example.

I also said that I believe the book of Genesis is simply a way of explaining the origins of the earth in such a way that could be understood by a particular people at a particular time, and that I can’t believe the earth is only 6,000 years old.

“The earth isn’t 6,000 years old, it is eons old,” my dad said. “The six days of creation aren’t literally six days, they are time periods. It is man that is 6,000 years old.”

“But according to the Bible, animals were created after man,” I said. “How do you explain dinosaur fossils that are dated millions of years ago, not to mention pre-homosapian fossils?”

Just then the next door neighbor, also a JW, knocked on the door. Apparently it was official congregation business, because my dad and the neighbor took off to talk in private.

Just me and my mom. I told her that I never really believed; only to the extent that you believe what your parents teach you. I never owned it, I never felt it.

My mom told me that for years she just went along with the belief system, going through the motions. Then one day she was going through a rough time with her Multiple Sclerosis, and my brother was having some serious problems with his Epilepsy. She got down on her knees and said, “now is the time, Jehovah. If you are there, I need you now.” She felt a warm feeling come over her. For the first time in her life she was sure. It was like she was born again, in her 50s.

When she told me that it blew my mind. I thought she was a rock of faith, but she was a skeptic most of her life. It’s a common story, I suppose. Hard times cause people to find God, or create him.

“That’s exactly what I want to feel,” I said. “I’ve prayed in the past. I don’t know if anyone is listening but I ask God to show himself to me. I want to feel what you felt. I don’t have that kind of faith. I don’t think I ever will.”

Dad came back and said, “I don’t,” referring to how do you explain pre-homosapien fossils. “Sure there are irregularities, but there are so many holes in evolution. If you believe in evolution, I would say that you have more faith than I do. It is much easier to believe that God created everything than to believe in evolution.”

It’s easier, sure, I wanted to say. But I would call it intellectual laziness.

“What else, besides the preaching work sets Witnesses apart from other Christians?” I asked.

“Jehovah’s name,” he said right away.
“You mean the tetragrammaton?” I said.
How did you know about the tetragrammaton?”
“I study religion. I read a lot. But his name is not necessarily Jehovah. Wouldn’t it be more like Yahweh?”

He went on to talk about the global brotherhood of JWs that you won’t find in other religions. It’s kind of hard to argue with that.

I would have liked to explore more theological topics with my dad, but at this point I was just avoiding the main reason I had come to visit.

“What is the purpose of disfellowshipping?” I asked. “Is it a punishment, or is it a way to keep the congregation clean?”

“It’s to keep the congregation clean, but we hope it is also a wake-up call.”

When one is disfellowshipped from the congregation, you are cut off from associating with current members, family included.

“Disfellowshipped persons made a commitment and rejected it,” my dad continued. “It’s like someone who gravely disrespected his father. His brothers and sisters would not want to have anything to do with him.”

“But people change their minds. People grow,” I said. “I was baptized at 14 years old. How am I supposed to make a life long commitment at that age?”

My dad didn’t really know what to say to that. I continued:

“So do you view me as tantamount to being disfellowshipped?” I hadn’t been officially disfellowshipped from the congregation at this point.

My dad paused, this was what I have been waiting for. I offered, “because if you do I would welcome it. It is only fair.”

“If you live a life that warrants disfellowshipping, then Jehovah has already disfellowshipped you,” he said.

“I’m out then,” I said. “And it’s too bad. How is disfellowshipping a wake-up call? If I was disfellowshipped I would totally denounce this evil organization that rips family and friends apart. It wouldn’t make me want to come back. It would push me further away. How is cutting someone off helping them?”

“Well it is scriptural,” he said. “But regardless, you are my son and although I won’t be inviting you over for a meal or anything like that. I will always be here for you if need anything.”

I looked at my watch and it was time to go. It was good that we finally talked. I think they understood me. I hugged them both and walked out the door. I’m sure they prayed for me when I left. I’m out. I’m free. It feels good.

Tagged as: doubt, Jehovah's Witnesses, personal essay, religious freedom