I received a phone call from my mother on Thursday (thoughtfully calling on my son’s birthday) in which she re-invited me to her wedding. Now I have to make a decision as to if I will attend or not.
If that first paragraph sounds crazy to you, it’s because religion is involved. Let me explain: In late February, after dating a man for a month, my mom announced she was engaged. Two weeks later, she invited us to her house where, for the first time, I met my future step-father. She spoke of her desire for a small wedding, in her fiancé’s backyard, with only a dozen or so family members in attendance. She was excited to have me, my wife, and son there, and told us to set the date aside. She even asked my wife to be the photographer.
So far so good…
A week later, however, she called, nearly in tears, informing me that I was now un-invited. The reason was because a couple of elders from her congregation (she’s a Jehovah’s Witness) corralled her fiancé into a meeting and told him that I was a disassociated ex-Witness and thus my presence at the wedding would be offensive to the Witnesses in the audience.
Incidentally, I am flabbergasted (God, I love that word) that elders from the congregation have a say in who my mom’s invites over to her house. It’s kind of like if my boss called me into his office and sternly charged me not to have any ex-employees over for dinner.
First my mom was shocked and appalled that I was disassociated. When I told her I had not disassociated myself, she said: “But they said that you sent a letter to the elders.” “Yes,” I explained, “I did send them a letter, but it was in response to their desire to meet with me. I told them I would meet with them, but they never responded.” My mom insisted that I must have disassociated myself, but when I offered to read the letter, she refused to listen. I tried pointing out to her that the Witnesses at her wedding would have nothing to worry about – I had no desire to expose their religion at my mom’s wedding – and, if anything, I should be afraid of them, as they are the ones who pride themselves in aggressive proselytizing. “But they’re good people,” she argued, implying that I was not.
After hanging up on me, my mom called a few days later admitting that perhaps I was being honest when I said I’d never disassociated myself but that, regardless, a person can be considered disassociated by their actions. This is complete bullshit. I mean, yes, the Watchtower Society does teach that if a former member disagrees with the current official doctrine on any point, than that person is defaulted as disassociated, but the bullshit stems from the fact that my sister and wife were both still invited. I’m not gonna expose their lives here, but, needless to say, both of them have done many many many many things contrary to Witness doctrine. Indeed, when my mom mentioned the existence of my website as sufficient reason to expel me from her wedding, I pointed out that it was my wife who loaded all the information onto the web. My mom did not know how to respond to this, and attempted to discuss the possibility of my uncle and aunt being allowed to pick my son up on the day of her marriage so that he may attend her wedding. “But you probably wouldn’t allow that,” she said in an accusatory manner. “Mom,” I asked, “when I was a little boy, would you have wanted me to go somewhere that you were not allowed to go to, especially if you knew all the people in attendance hated you and Dad?” After expressing her continued sorrow that I was hurt (“I didn’t think you’d be hurt by this,” she cried, “I thought you’d be happy for me”), we ended our conversation.
I called my sister and told her the whole tale. My sister decided that if I was prohibited from attending, then she would not go either, preferring instead the solidarity of our position. She was relieved, too, as she’s had a long history of not enjoying the company of Witnesses. She also works as a hair stylist and had only, with great finagling, gotten the day off. She said she’d now go to work on that day.
Then on Thursday came the aforementioned phone call. I laughed when my mom explained that an elder stopped by her house and decreed that, since she is now getting married at a community center, the elders can not stop me from attending. When my mom said “Please don’t laugh at me,” I felt bad for acting so flippant (I still do), but I had to point out the absurdity: why does switching the event from her home to a community center make a difference? “Well,” she said, “the community is a public place; they can’t stop people from attending, just like they can’t stop people from attending the Kingdom Hall.” (This statement is erroneous as well, but that’s another story.)
“But they can tell you who you can have at your own home?” I asked.
The conversation devolved from there. My mom started crying when she said how scared she was that I was against Jehovah, and when she asked if I was happier now than I was as a Witness, she became upset when I said that I was. (Man, only a religion can play with people’s heads like that.) After implying that I lacked both rules and a conscience, my mom attempted to counter my happiness by pointing out all the trials she’s had in the religion and, when I said “Yeah, see, right there – you just pointed out three reasons why the religion causes unhappiness,” she got frustrated that her ‘encouragement’ had back-fired.
When I asked her if the people in attendance would act like Christians or shun me, she refused to answer, instead saying: “Well don’t worry about them, right? Just care about me – your mother. It would mean a lot to me.” This struck me as highly hypocritical, as only weeks earlier she had kowtowed to the (supposed) desires of her guests by un-inviting me (a violating of Matthew 5:37, but that, too, is another story). But instead of pointing this out, I asked her: “Are you coming to Owen’s birthday party on Sunday?”
“Oh, honey, you know I can’t do that,” she said, and she went on to complain of the materialism and cake-eating that take place at such parties.
“Well,” I said, “don’t worry about all that, right? Just care about Owen – your grandson. It would mean a lot to him.”
There was silence, and then my mom repeated that she could not attend.
Her arguments against Owen’s birthday party, incidentally, are completely spurious. True, there would be cake…but there will also be cake at my mom’s wedding.  In the matter of gift giving, we indicated on Owen’s invitations that no gift was necessary.  Besides, my mom is undoubtedly Owen’s primary gift-giver. Indeed, she has given Owen so many gifts through the years that we have (more than once), requested she curtail this behavior.  Why is materialism acceptable on the 364 days a year that are not Owen’s birthday?  Additionally, I would bet good money (betting is also a sin) that my mom will receive more gifts on the day of her wedding than Owen received at his birthday party.
Anyway…
Do I go to her wedding? I’m not sure. She lacked the decency to show up at her grandson’s birthday party. Additionally, my sister, who decided to stand by me, now has to work on Saturday…so it seems kind of odd that I would now go without her. I had originally wanted to go to the wedding when my wife and I were guests that my mom desired to have in her company; now we are persona non grata that some elder is allowing to attend. My mom also made it clear that we would be expected to leave after the ceremony, lest our presence sully the cake-eating and gift-giving.
We recently attended another wedding and reception. The wedding was upstairs in a church, and the reception was downstairs. Owen had a good time. Last weekend, I asked him: “Would you like to go to another wedding?” He said: “Only the downstairs part.” So, if we do go, how do I explain to a four year old that one of his best friends – who refused attendance at his birthday party – demands that he leave prior to the “downstairs part”? I don’t know.
Whether or not I go, I will long view this as the strongest evidence yet that the Witnesses, apart from being theologically and scientifically wrong, are just plain unloving. Or rather, in the case of my mom, they are loving people who are forced to perform unloving acts in the name of their precious book publishing company.

They’ve searched for you.  They’ve come to your door and knocked.  Oh, you might not have answered.  Maybe you hid in your bedroom, or peaked through the curtains, but they came nonetheless.  You’ve seen them walking up to your door in their cheap suits, clip-on ties, and clean-shaven faces.  In 2008, they spent 1,488,658,249 hours doing just that.  Indeed, with the possible exception of their constantly evolving policy on blood transfusions, Jehovah’s Witnesses are probably better known for their door-to-door proselytizing than for anything else.

It might come as a surprise to learn, then, that for as intensely as Witnesses try to recruit new members, they try even more intensely to get rid of some of their members.

In 2006, my wife and I left the Witness religion.  We did so of our own accord, without creating any enemies. We held no ill-will towards anyone.  We simply disagreed with some of their teachings and policies and quietly discontinued our religious activity with the North Monticello congregation.  Over the year that followed, Witnesses occasionally stopped by our door to visit.  The visits were brief, amicable, and even friendly. 

In May 2007, we celebrated our son’s second birthday.  Witnesses view such celebrations as a sin, but, since we weren’t Witnesses, we saw no reason not to celebrate his birthday; much as, say, a non-Muslim sees no reason to fast during Ramadan.

But word of our small celebration traveled through the Witness gossip chain, and eventually came to the attention of the North Monticello elders.  In August, 2007 (over a year since we had last considered ourselves Witnesses), I received a call from an elder from my former congregation.  He requested to meet with my wife and me, but I declined his offer, on the basis that I saw no benefit in holding such a meeting.

But Witnesses are not so easily deterred.  The elder called two weeks later, insistent that we meet.  He explained that he knew about our birthday celebration, and that the elders needed to deal with our sin.  This seemed odd to me; since I was no longer a Witness, why would the elders hold me to their rules?  It was as if I had quit a job and then, over a year later, received a call from my ex-boss accusing me of violating company policy.

He had me in a difficult spot.  Had I simply declined the meeting again, the elders would have disfellowshipped my wife and me, meaning that all of our Witness friends and family would be barred from speaking to us ever again.  On the other hand, had I accepted the meeting, the elders would have seen that we were not remorseful for our ‘sin’ and likewise disfellowshipped us. 

So, instead, I asked him to give me a few days to ponder the matter.  He agreed and, in the meantime, my wife and I sent a letter to the elders wherein we agreed to meet with them as long as we would be permitted to bring legal counsel and record the meetings.  We asked them to respect any ecclesiastically privileged information they may have had about us, and to not defame us to the congregation.  These are reasonable requests, as the Witnesses claim to follow the bible, and the bible records several disciplinary meetings.  And since the elders would undoubtedly be in contact with the Watchtower Society’s (the Witnesses’ governing organization) team of lawyers, we felt it was only fair we be afforded the same rights.

The elders did not respond to our letter.

But this put them in a difficult spot.  My wife and I were free to associate with any Witness we wanted to, yet, as non-believers, the elders worried that we would convince our friends and family that the religion was not true.  They wished to silence us, but their hands were tied.

The elders corresponded with the Watchtower Society numerous times and, eventually, devised a plan to excommunicate us without having to go through the legal trouble of ‘disfellowshipping’ us without due process.  Instead, they concocted a new form of expulsion: removal.  Without informing us of their decision, the elders ‘removed’ us from being Witnesses over two years after we had already left the religion.  This satisfied their need to label us as persons to be avoided.  Our names were defamed to the entire congregation and, when people called the elders requesting more information, they offered up details of our private conversations.  In short order, our family and friends informed us they would henceforth be ceasing all association with us.

The next time a Witness, comes to your door with Watchtower in hand inviting you to join the Witnesses, ask them:  If you join, will you be allowed hold dissenting opinions?  Will you be allowed to commemorate the birth of your children?  Should you ever decide to leave the religion, will you be allowed to do so freely, and without harassment?  If you leave, will the friends you made in the religion continue to treat you as Jesus treated the Samaritans, in a kind and Christian manner?  On second thought, don’t even answer the door.  I’ll save you the time and trouble.  The answer to all those questions is No.