by Neville and Philippa McCallum

Neville McCallum experienced the full wrath of the Exclusive Brethren in New Zealand during the notorious reign of James H Symington (cult leader through the 1970′s until his death in 1987). In Cast Outside The Camp, Neville and his wife Philippa recount how it felt to be pursued, interrogated and eventually cast-out of the Exclusive Brethren. They pull no punches in this often deep, always insightful and sinister human drama which is presented by peebs.net as a multi-part serialization.

We build too many walls and not enough bridges

Aftermath - The Social Chains 

Going back to our apprehension about making decisions, what happens now, that Pip and I have to decide if our children eat their lunch at school, and 100 other matters that we had never had to think about? We had been good (most of the time) Exclusive Brethren, with the one-and-only decision to make, which was to unconditionally obey every dictate of the ‘world leader.’ There was, and is today, no other important decision to be made. Your head and every breath is spared or lost by this cultish behaviour. Due to the above, we were not well resourced to survive on the outside.

There were two situations that we feared –

1 – In 13 years of marriage, we had only entered the home of one person that was not an EB’s, a neighbours for the marriage of Charles and Diana on TV. We knew no one, and our children 11 & 8 years had no friends outside the EB’s. We had shunned everyone outside the EB fellowship as not fit for human friendship.

In 1959 my family, due to ‘world leadership’ rules, separated from all non brethren members (four  Christian families) of my mothers side of the family which turned strong family respect and love into bitterness and distrust, which we were totally responsible for. How would these families, neighbours etc react now, if after years of looking down on them, now we wanted to rebuild those friendships.

With trepidation, we slowly showed respect to our previous enemies, and to our surprise and to their great credit, they welcomed us back.

2 – What about those ex-members of the EB fellowship, that we had sat in judgement on, either supporting or not objecting to their unspeakable treatment and following fate, we had shown hate towards them, – three of Pip’s sisters and their families, two uncles and their families; my Mother, four cousins and their families, plus many other ex-members that we had grown up with. Would they respond as friends or foe?

We agonized for months over this predicament, but they also turned the other cheek and welcomed us into their families. One ex-member, Carolyn Robinson and her husband Grant, understanding our situation, welcomed us into their family circle and to their Christian fellowship.

Our confidence slowly returned, as did our trust in humanity and in the Christian faith. One of the most difficult traumas that we faced, was the struggle with bewilderment. At the time of excommunication, with all of our family and friends judging me to be wicked, rejected and hated, why could I not see my own faults. I still had no idea of having done anything illegal, ethically or morally wrong.

I can now understand the risk of a victim in my position, giving up in mental breakdown through bewilderment, or worse still, if having lost spouse and children as well, opting for suicide.

To Be Continued

The next installment of Cast Outside The Camp will be: Cast Outside The Camp – Aftermath – The Bruce Hales Review

Read all published installments of the McCallum story.

Neville McCallum and his wife Philippa tell their often harrowing story of experiencing Exclusive Brethren Assembly discipline in a series of installments. Neville and Philippa live in New Zealand with their family. If you would like to be alerted when another installment is published in this series, please subscribe to Peebs.Net » Personal Stories by email for Cast Outside The Camp or any other Personal Story in the future.

Order the Book! Neville and Philippa have self-published a book of their experiences. Use the form below to contact them direct in order to receive further information:
[contact-form-7]

An Invitation! If you have a Personal Story of Life in the Exclusive Brethren, please consider sending it to us here at peebs.net. This website reaches thousands of people every month and there is no better way of telling our story than by describing it in human terms. We like to publish via installment and would work with you to maximize the publication impact.

by Neville and Philippa McCallum

Neville McCallum experienced the full wrath of the Exclusive Brethren in New Zealand during the notorious reign of James H Symington (cult leader through the 1970′s until his death in 1987). In Cast Outside The Camp, Neville and his wife Philippa recount how it felt to be pursued, interrogated and eventually cast-out of the Exclusive Brethren. They pull no punches in this often deep, always insightful and sinister human drama which is presented by peebs.net as a multi-part serialization.

And now matters start coming to a head ...

ROUND 15 (Part 1)

- Excommunication -

After the last Round, I had to do a little homework, in case I was employing the 18 year old illegally. I contacted the Labour Department, and enquired into the matter. The laws of the land were as follows –
It was lawful to employ any person who reached the age of 18 yrs without joining them to a union, providing they had not been approached by a union official. There was no responsibility on the part of the employer to even suggest to any employee that they should join a union. The fact that no union official had ever set foot on my property let alone speak to my employees, left me in the clear legally.

I asked my 18 yr old employee, if she had ever considered belonging to a union. I got an emphatic NO. The result of the above enquiry was like ‘music to my ears’.

I was ready for the return of the thugs.

Pip and I are standing at attention as the knock knock knock rings out as usual. We go through the, go-slow, go quietly, look sad, formality, and glide over to and sink into our personal seats.

There was no need by now to point or nod to a suggested seat, we all knew just where to sit. The spiritual ritual of going slowly and quietly did not abate with time, as it must have been the hallmark of spiritual superiority before going into battle. Funny though, it never seemed to help the battle to ebb in their favour. After so many losses, wouldn’t you have thought they would have tried another tack?

PRIEST –”Last time we were here we went over the unrighteousness of your staff not belonging to a union, and the direction of the ‘man of god’. What have you come to in working through this matter with the lord.”

Why worry the Lord about it, it was so stupidly simple you only needed half a brain to work this one out, let alone the hassling of Divine Persons. Two minutes on the phone to the Labour Department and it was over. I decided the time was overdue for them to be given some homework.

N. McC – “Last time you were here I asked for help as to how to work this matter out. Have you given this any thought?.”

PRIEST - “We rely on what the ‘lord’s servant’ indicates.

N. McC – “Have you contacted Mr Symington about this matter?”

PRIEST - “No we haven’t contacted him, but the brethren trust his judgment in everything.”

N. McC – “I have done my homework, and it appears that I am not running my business unrighteously.”

PRIEST - “When the ‘man of god’ speaks, it is for our good to follow his direction, even though we might not understand what he is getting at.”

I had been caught out with this devious ploy before. Whenever a ‘world leader’ demanded a change of direction, if it was not intelligent enough for the average brain to comprehend, it would be classified as part of the mystery (a scriptural term), or it may be classified as an ambush, (a military term). Both these terminologies convey the idea that we are not able to fully understand unless we were the author of the deceit.

The authors of these terminologies were beyond questioning as to the meaning of these mysteries and ambushes lest the real truth escape and they be exposed thereby. This strategy in leadership is called – ‘dog whistle politics’. When you whistle a dog, both you and the dog know the meaning of the call, with dogs being able to hear a pitch higher than humans can hear, which means that no one else can interpret the call. This is why it has no place in the Christian faith, as confusion is not of God.

Any member who challenged the foundations of these deceitful mysteries would be judged wicked and dealt with, as, – “being against the lord’s anointed”. This offence could mean instant execution. In the 3 years of being imprisoned we had lived a life of getting back to reality, putting lying mysteries and ambushes behind us.

Mysteries and ambushes were (and still are) used extremely effectively to brainwash the body of the brethren and to keep them in a state of uncertainty, suspense and in awe of these leaders who could secretly interpret the pitch of these ‘dog-whistling’ calls. They never had to reveal the basis or foundations of this cultish psychology.

World leaders, assuming to be, ‘men of god’, ‘lord’s servants’, ‘bible teachers’, ‘pure men’, could all jump into bed with young naked women behind closed doors, conceal the favours provided and actually get exonerated in PUBLIC meetings for it, providing the body of the brethren were duped into believing this orgy was an ambush. Small wonder so many under-leaders strive to achieve the dizzy heights of their Supreme Commander! A glorious position involving high-pitched whistles and silk sheet favours!

To simple Christians like Pip and I, there is no mystery in the Christian faith, and our God is not a God of confusion. It was time to offer these confused souls an opportunity to understand the simple, clear directions of the scriptures when faced with making a decision regarding good and evil.

N. McC – “What you should do is to go to the Labour Department and inquire about NZ law regarding how a person is to join a union, and then come back and tell me who is right, you or me. If I have to do what you are demanding, my business will fold within 6 months. If it is wrong/sinful to register an employee with a union, then instead of going about it in a underhand, back door way by hiring managers, we should hold up our Christian flag, and do what is right, and face going to gaol if necessary for our faith.”

This one really cleared the deck. They were out and gone, from what was a very short visit.

I took courage, I thought they were off to the Labour Department to check it all out. We waited for them to see the light, and to FEEL THEIR POSITION and finally become friends again. The tide of battle had ebbed and flowed for 3 years, surely there would be a fair and honest decision. We were desperate for news of our families, because we knew that had one of our family been involved in an accident, or death, we would probably not have been told, or, worse still, been blamed for it. Pip worried a lot about her aging parents.

Finally a phone call comes through – another visit appointment? Not likely…

MERV –”Neville, during our visits you have been CONTENTIOUS, and now you have ENDANGERED YOUR HEAD WITH THE KING. The brethren have judged you to be UNFIT for Christian fellowship”.

Well, that was it. It was like the prison gate slamming shut, and the click of the padlock. The Neche murderer had struck again and another innocent family had fallen.

After 3 years, it was all over. We were outside the camp for good.

It was now clear, that because they could not drive us into submission and collapse us personally, by attempting to cripple our business, there was a chance that our needs would become severe enough as a family, so that we would have to capitulate.

I would go to work fearing that these Nazi U-Boats would surface at my home while my wife was unprotected, as I knew this had been done to other women. A husband would arrive home to find his wife and children were gone, never ever to SEE or SPEAK to their family again. The fear of perhaps having to face this human atrocity was unexplainable. I would leave work early and speed home (ten minutes), sometimes phoning just before I left to make sure Pip was still at home. As I approached the house, I would look for a movement to know if she and the kids were still there, the tears of relief would flow, but I never allowed her to notice what I was going through.

I had made a decision, for better or worse, that if these vultures visited her alone without her or my approval, I would have rushed home, or arrived at their home and dealt to them physically.

I was thankfully spared of this action. These slimy-creeps did phone her while I was away and suggest that she live separate from me, which was the first step towards taking her off me. I knew it would be now, that the pressure, real emotional and mental pressure, would be forced onto her behind my back to walk out and possibly never return. The next time they phoned I was home, but Pip would not even respect them by talking to them. She told me to tell them that she had no interest in talking to them.

Pip was excommunicated for being indifferent.

To Be Continued

The next installment of Cast Outside The Camp will be: Cast Outside The Camp – Round 15 (Part 2)

Read all published installments of the McCallum story.

Neville McCallum and his wife Philippa tell their often harrowing story of experiencing Exclusive Brethren Assembly discipline in a series of installments. Neville and Philippa live in New Zealand with their family. If you would like to be alerted when another installment is published in this series, please subscribe to Peebs.Net » Personal Stories by email for Cast Outside The Camp or any other Personal Story in the future.

Order the Book! Neville and Philippa have self-published a book of their experiences. Use the form below to contact them direct in order to receive further information:
[contact-form-7]

An Invitation! If you have a Personal Story of Life in the Exclusive Brethren, please consider sending it to us here at peebs.net. This website reaches thousands of people every month and there is no better way of telling our story than by describing it in human terms. We like to publish via installment and would work with you to maximize the publication impact.

by Tim Twinam

“We now move into Assembly” was first published in 1998 on the ‘Wyman Website‘ – a website forced to close in 2003 due to Exclusive Brethren litigation.

The Exclusive Brethren create spiritual and social refugees as dramatically as any regime in history

I have a horror of arriving late for an appointment. I believe that this minor psychosis has its origins in the acute embarrassment of arriving late for an Exclusive Brethren meeting.

If you arrived late for the Lords Supper in the late sixties, you would have a problem – unless you possessed a key to the locked door. If determined to enter, you would have to knock on the door to alert an investigating brother.

A gentle tap on a window to attract attention would fail miserably today as anyone that knows the structure of a modern Exclusive Brethren Meeting Room would understand.  Further adding to access problems are the padlocked steel gates and perimeter security fences.

One could slip fairly anonymously into a Preaching, in the 1960′s, as long as only the lectern faced the door, but as most gatherings involved a circular arrangement of chairs, you were almost certainly going to be noticed. Arriving late therefore was not an option and only bearable in dire emergencies.

Our appointment with the Assembly in Maidstone was scheduled for 8:00pm on a Wednesday evening. It had not struck me as a strange time before my father, mother and myself drew up to find the mass of parked cars. There was no-one in sight and yet it was still ten minutes to the allotted time. With a tummy-flip, I realized that we were the Second Course and that the Meeting Room was already full.

I inherited a natural shyness from my mother, who I could tell did NOT want to even consider the fact that not only were we the guests of ‘honor’, but that we were going to have to enter a crowded room. “Oh No, Laurie …” was all she could manage to say. His jaw muscles tightened. We each had some demons to face as we walked the concrete path to the door.

They were singing a hymn as we entered the lobby. I was reminded of my many years of standing outside school assemblies, listening to sounds that I knew so well. Through the clear glass door, we could see into the brightly lit hall … and we were seen as well. Already, pink faces were peering over hymn books into the dimly lit lobby.

Although we could not hear, we became aware after a few minutes, that a prayer was in progress. Most heads were bowed, but several score pairs of eyes still tried to focus on the three of us through the glass. Eventually, a general movement indicated the end of the meeting and after a short pause, Dad opened the door inquiringly. Someone said “Come in Laurence.” and we ventured into the almost painful light.

We split three ways immediately – Dad headed into the central circle, I sat on the first available seat on a second row and Mum was beckoned over to sit beside a friend. It was Mrs. Walkingshaw and I saw her warm hand clamp vice-like over Mum’s.

Thus, with central focus on my father, the three Twinam representatives were now in place to hear the dread words: “We now move into Assembly“.

I could not see Dad’s face from where I was sitting, so I zoned into a small area on the back of his head. Without even looking at Mum, I knew that the three of us were linked in some way, a level of concentration that was a bond beyond even the blood ties. There was no way that I wanted to lose my close-knit Exclusive Brethren social group, but even that had slipped unconsciously into a secondary position. Our family was under threat and instinctively, I was ready to defend. There was not much I could do as a 15 year old boy, but I could certainly hold my head high and use that unique Teen ability to face criticism with carefully crafted nonchalance.

I do not recall the bulk of the meeting. It was series of charges and rebuttals. In many ways, my father was in an impossible situation. How could he even dream of doing what he was being asked to do? How could he withdraw a word which was entirely concerning the ‘Man, Christ Jesus’? I did not think of Simon Peter while I was sitting there, but if he had been available for advice, would he have agreed to ‘denying’ the Lord for a fourth time?

I hadn’t allowed myself to relax much since our traumatic entry into the hall, but with a couple of brief glances I realized that the room was packed. I had never seen such a gathering during a weeknight! Some were there for the blood-sport maybe, but there was a layer of indefinable sadness as well. The decisions that would be made in the next few minutes would affect many lives.

Suddenly, everything shot into hard focus. A brother had just uttered the awful phrase: “I feel that I can no longer walk with you in fellowship.” In an instant, we were placed at the gate. Then another brother verbally agreed … then another.

Each statement was another rough push. It was the most weird sensation. I glanced across at my mother. She sat there stiffly, head held high, her cheeks burned with two bright spots. Her eyes never wavered from the back of Dad’s head.

“Then we must withdraw from iniquity,” intoned Sid Houston, the City Lead.

There was a moment of silence. Someone leaned over to Houston and made a comment. Sid looked first at me, sitting in a second row and then turned in his chair to look at Mum.

“Kathleen,” he said somberly, “How do you stand regarding these issues?”

My mother did not hesitate: “I stand beside my husband!” she said firmly and clearly. Her voice was strong. I tasted her anger.

“Then we must withdraw from you and your husband.” Sid turned away from Mum without a second glance.

Sid looked at me and I looked at him. Time seemed to stand still. I don’t know what he read in my teenage boy eyes. It seemed a very long look but I am sure it was only momentary. He broke the gaze and turned toward Bill Saltmarsh from Sevenoaks. I heard him ask, “What shall we do about the children? Timothy is here.”

“They’re too young.” Bill replied dismissively. I recall those words clearly through the years as I write them. I had no real desire to be interrogated or even to offer an opinion. I knew I was with my family, no matter what. However, that little ‘put-down’ rankled for many years!

Then there was silence.

I knew the formula. If the excommunicated member did not leave, then the entire congregation must get up and walk out. I imagine this is how it was in some of the many divisions within the Exclusive Brethren over the years.

A moment of Withdrawing always offered an opportunity for division in the Exclusive Brethren. If anyone wished, they could also stand and leave at this juncture. They would then automatically be excommunicated as well.

My father rose slowly to his feet. He looked hunched, somehow older. He said something quietly to those around him but as it was un-amplified, I did not catch the words. There was no response. White-faced, my father turned away from the circle.  No-one else stood, the entire inner-circle seemed frozen and all eyes were turned downward.

My mother stood as Dad left the inner circle and joined him as he walked slowly toward the door. As they both reached me, I stood too and as I did so, glanced up at the Teen area. I saw two Teen girls dabbing their eyes with hankies. I smiled a weak “Goodbye” and turned to follow my parents. I did not look back.

Only someone who has been in the Brethren could understand the deep emotional and spiritual turmoil that accompanied our exit out of the Assembly, through the glass doors, out through the lobby and then into the evening chill.  Each door opening  and closing created a chasm behind us. Inside, they would be pulling on imaginary chains to ensure any bridges and drawbridges were removed.

Just as a leper, found to be infected by a priest in the Old Testament, would be placed outside the safety of the camp at the time of the children of Israel, we too had been declared infected and we had been pushed away.

The people whom we had grown up with, worshipped with and who were our only social group, had disowned us and now would do so publicly if necessary. If we were to be seen on the street, we would be ignored. There would be no further conversations with anyone.

The belief that the Brethren were the Chosen, the Bride, meant that the withdrawal had eternal significance too. We were no longer part of the Brethren and that meant we, in their eyes, would not be part of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.  It meant that we would not share in the Rapture and I had been taught since infancy that if someone died ‘in their sins’, they would go to hell. It was quite a sentence.

We were three people in shock and we drove home quietly. There was very little conversation. There was one little exchange soon after the journey started, when both Mum and I asked Dad if he was sure: “Are you sure we have done the Right Thing?”

Dad paused for a moment and then said sincerely “I didn’t want this for you all. I am so sorry that you are having this experience too.”

He meant it. Dad knew that we were with him, but the sense of responsibility for his Exclusive Brethren family must have weighed very heavy that night.

When I later recalled that tiny exchange I realized that Dad didn’t in fact answer our question. The conditioning of the Exclusive Brethren is complete. It is the reason why so many stay in what the rest of the world see so clearly as an abusive cult. ‘We are the Church‘ – how then can one person even dare to consider that they are right and the entire Assembly is wrong?

It says a great deal to both the courage and the faith of my father that he was prepared to grapple with his life-long conditioning, listen to his heart and lead his young family away from the only place of spiritual safety he knew. I was proud then, but am far prouder today. It was the action of a Warrior. My Father, my Hero.

The days that followed brought with them a melancholy, and the telephone stopped ringing. It was certainly a form of bereavement to have lost so many friendships in such a short space of time. It was far more painful I am sure, for my father and mother, who had spent their entire longer lives in the Exclusive Brethren. Dad seemed a little lost to begin with and for a short period of time, the meal time bible readings became longer and more protracted as Dad tried to compensate, replacing the loss of a meeting schedule with our own.

Gradually, the telephone became a frequent haunt for my father. We became aware of a considerable ‘underground’ of previous Brethren. There were many names that he already knew, but the restrictions that we had psychologically absorbed over the years, always offered little tendrils of doubt when we were in contact with those ‘under discipline’. It was strange to have these fears even as we were now in the same position.

Mum told me many years later that she had been visited by several sisters who suggested that she could leave Dad, with as many of the children that wanted to return, back into fellowship. She told me that she had given them short shrift and her green eyes will still glitter with anger at the memory. That proposition had not been even the slightest temptation for her.

The Exclusive Brethren today offer the same route.  There are many ‘Widows for Christ’ who are supported both legally and financially by the wealthy cult. For some the ability to retain their extended family is too great a temptation and the disciplined ex-member must leave literally everything behind, including his marriage and family.

There was some illicit contact with one or two still in fellowship. These calls tended to come late at night and my father began to relax a little as he tapped into the Underground and gleaned news as to latest events from various sources. It seemed that there was a general growing concern in early 1970, as to the way new regulations and influences were headed. It seemed as though there was perhaps a greater clarity in the freedom to assess from a distance. There was an ability now to actually be skeptical and to test, without bearing the fear of discovery or guilt for so doing.

And so the Summer of 1970 was a family time. We carried on living our lives. The forced separation from the wider Family was not the terrible doom-laden burden that we might have initially anticipated. There were more picnics, more time to associate in the evenings, new faces would arrive at the door for a meal or visit with my parents. These were others who had just ‘left’ or had ‘seen the light’ several years before.

Although these new friends were made totally welcome by my parents, deep-down there was still the stigma attached to anyone who had been disciplined. So complete was the training that we had received, that even with us wearing the badge of Withdrawal, we remained cautious of those who wore the same ribbon of battle.

For all the new freedoms and gentle explorations, we only traveled a short distance. It was as though we had now partially joined a selected company of lepers who followed behind the camp, but at a distance. We understood their tents and structures. We had spent our lives helping to build the company that traveled erratically ahead in the distance. We were still tied to their society and culture, even though they no longer considered us part of themselves.

Dad suspected that changes were imminent from some conversations he was having. There was news of some outrageous fellowship meetings, where whisky and humor were the main topics. “Things are coming to a head, you know,”  my father would comment sagely; “What we must do is watch and pray.”

Looking back, it was perfect timing for my high school finals. Balancing the time needed for homework, revision and exam preparation had always been a problem with the rigid and mandatory evening and weekend Meeting schedules. Over the years I had learned to prepare my homework quickly in bed and then write it up as fast as possible on the train to school the following morning.

Although I earned the scholastic opinion of being a lazy student due to my often late or hastily scribbled homework, little did they realize that the work was done in such foreshortened circumstances. The relaxation of time pressure enabled me a luxurious opportunity to complete work at a table without time pressure or rocking train carriages and, for my final weeks of schooling, I was able to enjoy the beautiful Kent countryside as the morning train sped me to school.

Just before my sixteenth birthday, during the last week of July, the incredible news of events at Aberdeen arrived. I think the telephone did not stop ringing! Dad even placed a cushion on the large oak chest we kept by the phone. I learned most of the salacious details by sitting on the landing outside the bathroom, listening to the relayed dispatches from downstairs.

I think those few days completed my moral education! To a young innocent, it all seemed so ‘cut and dried’. Big Jim had been caught in bed with another woman, a woman I remembered well, for her long dark lustrous hair. Several witnesses had confirmed the event and it seemed a very straightforward issue. He had been found doing something totally unacceptable, he would be disciplined, and then things could get back to normal, right?

But nothing is ever that simple in the complex world of Exclusive Brethren politics …

To Be Continued

The next in Tim’s series will be: Aberdeen & Aftermath

Here is a link to all published installments of Tim Twinam’s story

Tim re-tells his story of being brought up in the Exclusive Brethren as a series of installments.

If you would like to be alerted when he publishes another article in this series, please subscribe to Peebs.Net » Personal Stories by email for Tim or any other Personal Story in the future.

Craig Hoyle, NZ

Part 2 of the Craig Hoyle story

If you ever wondered how the Exclusive Brethren treat those who dare to question their rules and lifestyle, Craig Hoyle’s continuing story will tell you far more than you probably want to know.

Craig Hoyle is gay – a ‘mortal sin’ and, as far as the Exclusive Brethren cult are concerned, a sickness that must be suppressed and cured. The way that Craig was treated is both heart-rending and anger-inducing.

How dare these people call themselves ‘Christian’!

We continue Craig’s story below. The first part of his journey can be read here - ‘What is it like to be gay in the Exclusive Brethren’ -

20-year-old Craig Hoyle, who was brought up in the Exclusive Brethren Church, risked losing everything when he told his priests and family he was gay.

After several meetings with church leaders, and a period under hormonal suppressant medication given to him by a Brethren doctor, Craig just couldn’t take it anymore. He was placed into the first stage of ‘excommunication’.

Craig continues his extraordinary story (Part 2).