The Ministers

Growing up, the "board of ministers" had a lot to say about what we did or didn't do in our family. Decisions that today would be made easily by one's parent were punted off to the "board of ministers."

Could women wear slacks? Wear make-up? Cut their hair? Wear jewelry? The decisions of the "board of ministers" both dressed and undressed me through childhood, adolescence and into my early adulthood. There was a real belief that such personal appearance decisions held eternal consequence. (A belief that I was also conditioned to hold.)

To appease the "board of ministers, " I ran track in fourth grade with a flap of material sewed over the front and back of my already handsome polyester track suit with stripes up the sides and snaps on the shoulders. The flaps covered the divide between my legs. Later in middle school, I dropped from cheer leading tryouts before I made the squad telling the coach that "it was hard to explain." In high school, I opted out of women's softball because although my parents made a special request to the "board of ministers" for me to wear the team uniform, I had been denied.

The "board of ministers" held such power over the mundane.

Last spring, during a visit from Ronda, we spent an afternoon sorting through old Kingdom documents stored here at the parsonage in boxes since before we arrived. Jim has considered burning them on several occasions, but I have always rescued them thinking that they might hold some value.

On my living room floor, we sifted through the minutes, letters, minister's policy notes, draft memos and memos on the issues faced by the church. For those readers who might be appalled to know that I read these archival documents, I will remind you that these are all a matter of public record. Those organizations including churches that enjoy tax-exempt status are required to make the minutes and business of their meetings available to all members and the public upon request. The code of secrecy that lived once over these proceedings was not unique to the Kingdom, and it was not right either.

We read minutes that reflected how "the board of ministers" decided to reveal the "moral lapse" of our esteemed leader. We read the results of a polygraph test given to a man who was accused of molesting two small girls one Easter many years ago. We saw official documents signed by both my father and Ronda's father as witnesses before God and man. I counted the penciled tally marks on a vote taken to establish who believed Mr. Sandford was Elijah--and who did not.

I found a letter from my grandmother clarifying her relationship with Mr. Sandford with a line in it that said: "I was probably closer to him than any other person on earth outside of his immediate family."

Tucked between the yellowed pages of board minutes was Ronda's grandfather's original handwritten letter of resignation from the Kingdom board of ministers. He left when he stopped believing in Mr. Sandford's role as Elijah.

Once after Mr. Abram died, Ronda's father had wondered if he was being called to lead the movement. He presented this to the board of ministers for consideration. We read through the notes and transcripts of that meeting. One esteemed leader had written a letter saying that he had gotten a message from God saying that Ralph (Ronda's father) might be an "angel of light." (this is not a good thing--it is an evil being disguised as good.)

There were pages and pages filled with stories--- the tears of a woman molested by a man who still appears at Fairwood. The anger of a man who realized that the leaders of the church would not bend on the Elijah thing. Lamentations from those who could not believe that Mr. Abram dallied with the spinster women of the movement. Letters that implored the ministers to bring justice to the wronged and letters that begged the ministers to keep the secrets quiet.

There was even a very humorous letter that some dear woman wrote about the ministers who kneel on the platform with their great big bottoms facing the congregation. She suggested that they made good targets for spitballs. She stated in no uncertain terms that the women of the church did not enjoy looking at their wide loads. She concluded her letter with a limerick from President Wilson.

There were policies on women's hair, clothes, jewelry. There was a policy on sex--interestingly enough they encouraged frequent "unions" to strengthen the marriage bond, and even suggested that manual stimulation, although morally questionable, would be acceptable as long as it was NOT masturbation.

There was a position paper on the Equal Rights Movement with a clear message that women who had the same rights as men might start acting like men. It also suggested that if women earned as much as men, it would be harder for men to be in control of their households.

Maybe it was the dust and mold that flew in to my face as I disturbed the pages. Or maybe it was something else, but I choked. And choked. And choked. I feel like I am still choking.