Post by Alan Vandermyden on Jan 12, 2011 23:46:31 GMT -5
This posting by alexander addresses a topic that I have thought about a lot, and I’m going to attempt to reflect on it as it relates to my own experience, both while I was in the work and after I left the work. As I’ve mentioned on other threads, though this board – Coffee Talk – is intended for those of us who have spent time on the work to reflect on our experiences there, I do find it nearly impossible to separate that time from my time since I left the work, and from the experiences and perceptions of others who are interacting with the workers in various capacities.
The 2x2 fellowship is just as much a man made denomination as is any other man made denomination. Whether or not the Holy Spirit is guiding the friends and workers is a matter of faith. But it is a matter of fact that a man started the fellowship- William Irvine. It is a fact and belief that the workers are just men and women doing the best they can to follow God's will and teaching. However, there is no direct lineage with the apostles of the new testament.
One reason that the workers have so much power and adoration among the friends is because of the only way teaching.
[. . .]
Another ADDED layer of mysticism is the belief that the workers shouldn't be married.
[. . .]
What would happen if the mysticism was taken away? What if all of the friends and workers realized that the workers aren't apostles with the powers of the apostles (that should be obvious)- but were in fact just men and women doing the best they can to preach the gospel? Wouldn't that be more of a miracle and encouragement to the friends? If many of the overseers were more honest and humble about their mistakes- I know that that would be a great encouragement to me. [. . .]
First, if I may, I would prefer to use the word Mystique, which more precisely expresses the meaning I am intending.
From dictionary.com:
mystique
–noun
1. a framework of doctrines, ideas, beliefs, or the like, constructed around a person or object, endowing the person or object with enhanced value or profound meaning: the mystique of Poe.
2. an aura of mystery or mystical power surrounding a particular occupation or pursuit: the mystique of nuclear science.
When I speak of the workers’ “mystique,” I am meaning much the same thing that is sometimes referred to as “putting the workers on a pedestal,” or “worshiping the workers.” But I do want to clarify that I in no way intend this as being “critical,” or “judgmental” of individuals. As I view it, it’s something we’re all a part of, in many ways. We have probably all idolized certain individuals—not necessarily workers, or even professing people—and have possibly realized later that we’ve given them too much “authority” in our lives. And society, including ourselves, consistently puts “public figures” on pedestals—celebrities, political figures, etc. We admire them, we emulate them, we look to them to “change things,” and we are very frequently disappointed in time! But we repeatedly do it. We can react in blaming or criticizing them, but we can also look to our own culpability in it all.
When I began in the work—as I’ve written in other threads here (I think)—I found that I was instantly “looked up to” by the friends. And perhaps it’s not so wrong to want someone whom one can admire and respect. But maybe we do make a mistake in the assumption that the place—the “title”—automatically confers a special quality on a person. It’s complex, and we’re all intricately involved. I enjoyed the honor, yet it scared me. I felt happy at being a “servant of God,” yet I soon wondered why I didn’t feel any different, didn’t seem to have any special wisdom, though people at times questioned me as if I did, and I attempted to fill the role. At this point—still very much a beginner—I don’t view my role as being dishonest as much as puzzled and desperately trying to do what seemed to be expected of me. And I am very hesitant to call others dishonest too, but see them as people caught up in something they really can’t see their way out of.
I accumulated questions as the (18) years passed, and some things greatly bothered me, yet I continued to view them as exceptions, and I would, as expected, defend “the ministry” or try to “keep in my place,” not wanting to worry about something that was “someone else’s responsibility.” I’m using phrases that are commonly used among workers and in a way that I was specifically taught by older companions and other workers.
I am going to use a metaphor here to analyze some practices—please allow me to explain how I intend to use the word, as I can see it bringing some immediate negative reaction! That word is theater. But!! In talking about theater and roles, I am not at all implying something “fake” or “pretend.” This word is sometimes used in analyzing rituals, celebrations, and other practices in societies. It does not imply either a negative or a positive value when used in this manner.
Think of a theater as a specific place that is formed for a specific purpose, perhaps only for a few hours or a day—a park with all the decorations for a July 4 celebration, a school awards assembly, a religious service/observation, a sporting event, a concert . . . even sitting around the table for supper as a family can be analyzed this way. We all have specific roles we’re expected to play in these “theaters, on various “stages,” and our “performance” of the role is evaluated by those in “authority,” and the correct way of playing the role is taught through example, admonishment, withholding of approval, and so on. We’re all actors and we’re all audience members.
Now, let’s think of convention as a large theater. Again, this does not mean that God is not in it, that we do not hear God’s voice there. But let’s not allow our view of it as sacred—as “holy grounds”—to prevent us from acknowledging that it is a practice instituted by humans—they may or may not have been directed by God, but there was a historic time—a century or so ago—when workers first decided to conduct conventions. They have changed through the years in number of days and in the way things are done—even down to deciding who speaks when—and these changes are all people’s decisions. Many decisions may be basically mundane—the menu, the color of buildings, etc., but other decisions are of course of far greater import.
We California workers often joked about “living by the list,” and many of those lists concerned convention—speaking lists, sleeping arrangements lists, “tea-serving” lists, platform lists, transportation lists, cooking schedules, song–leaders lists . . . and more. People made those lists—some of the decisions they reflect are good, some bad. I have made many lists myself, often pertaining to transportation, and I certainly can’t say they were “of God.” Perhaps there was an occasional “inspired’ decision, but, for the most part, I was simply trying to work out a practical arrangement, which included avoiding any “issues” I was aware of—certain people that shouldn’t be together, etc.
This all points to human involvement in the planning and organization of the convention. To turn now to the topic—worker mystique—let’s consider some of the “visuals.” When I began in the work, I was very aware that I was now sitting in a very visible position—up there, on a particular side of the platform (the side varies from convention to convention). And it was another “step” when I had been in the work a few years and was assigned to sit on the platform. Is this seating of workers in front, separate from and in view of everyone else, not a visual reinforcement of an “authority,” or “sacredness”? I am not at all saying workers should be disrespected, yet these things that create a mystique about them tend to preclude questioning of words and actions—not every single time, but often enough. And of course, the separate treatment follows through in dining, sleeping quarters, etc. Some of it may be for very practical reasons, but they are nevertheless placed somewhere “up there, out of reach.”
The friends also play roles—sharing testimonies, doing various jobs around convention, even their quietness at night, or whether they go off the grounds. And the workers are watching, evaluating—I’ve been there. It’s not generally done to criticize, but almost “proud” of the friends from one’s field (or past fields). This is not all bad either—it is wonderful to see people growing, maturing, perhaps hurts healed, marriages mended. But what I do notice too—and I see this very much in myself—is that is so easy to be aware of being watched at convention, and performing accordingly. This is another place where I feel the theater metaphor is particularly apt. We praise children for “willingness to serve,” but I wonder how willing some of them might be back at home, particularly when they’re not told to wash dishes or whatever. Sometimes large sums of money are handed to workers at convention, and they are praised (privately) for it, while helping some other charitable organization is often frowned on, because “that money could have been given to the workers.” A man once gave me $600, and I had never been in his field, but I was aware that he had a serious problem with drugs. I asked another worker, who knew the situation better, if I should accept the money, and he told me to accept it, because no one had yet told the man his money would be refused. I accepted the money and gave it to the older workers. Should I have refused it, based on my own knowledge and conviction? Maybe. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do in the system I was living in. I was very aware of trying to do and to “be” what I thought “they” wanted me to be.
This kind of thing can happen outside of convention, of course, but I believe convention is a place where more “righteousness” occurs, partly because of the “atmosphere,” but also partly because people are aware of being “evaluated.”
I used a lot of island parables in the work—and that may not have been the best—but people liked them. But once I questioned the wrong person, I was suddenly viewed as “too hung up on culture.” Workers hinted to me that this would “take me out.” I’m not plugging for my view on culture here, but am pointing out that something they once liked was now used to criticize me. The connection with convention? Testimonies are evaluated. I can express myself fairly well, and I used to get a lot of “amens.’ That probably wasn’t the best thing for my ego, but I do believe I was trying to be honest, opening up and sharing what I had felt and learned. But suddenly, after this stuff began to happen, I would receive a deathly silence after I spoke in convention. I was hurting, and took comfort from Biblical stories of people who had felt very alone—Joseph, Job, David, Gideon. The thing I’m attempting to point out here is the evaluation of the performance of roles—a person is made to know if they are “approved” or not, and we generally either change and fit in, move on out, or live kind of “on the fringe.”
We could go on for hours about different roles, expectations, and evaluations, but maybe this is enough to show what I’m trying to say. And please, please understand that I am not saying this to “blast” anyone. We are all involved; we all help to create and maintain this mystique. Do we simply expect “them”—the leaders—to change, or do we interrogate our own involvement and take an appropriate stand ourselves?
Do you suppose the #1 reason that many workers and professing people do not want to openly acknowledge or discuss the origins of the 2x2 fellowship being only 100 or so years old and nor discuss the founder William Irvine is because it takes away the mysticism that gives the workers so much power and control?
The 2x2 fellowship is just as much a man made denomination as is any other man made denomination. Whether or not the Holy Spirit is guiding the friends and workers is a matter of faith. But it is a matter of fact that a man started the fellowship- William Irvine. It is a fact and belief that the workers are just men and women doing the best they can to follow God's will and teaching. However, there is no direct lineage with the apostles of the new testament.
One reason that the workers have so much power and adoration among the friends is because of the only way teaching.
[. . .]
Another ADDED layer of mysticism is the belief that the workers shouldn't be married.
[. . .]
What would happen if the mysticism was taken away? What if all of the friends and workers realized that the workers aren't apostles with the powers of the apostles (that should be obvious)- but were in fact just men and women doing the best they can to preach the gospel? Wouldn't that be more of a miracle and encouragement to the friends? If many of the overseers were more honest and humble about their mistakes- I know that that would be a great encouragement to me. [. . .]
First, if I may, I would prefer to use the word Mystique, which more precisely expresses the meaning I am intending.
From dictionary.com:
mystique
–noun
1. a framework of doctrines, ideas, beliefs, or the like, constructed around a person or object, endowing the person or object with enhanced value or profound meaning: the mystique of Poe.
2. an aura of mystery or mystical power surrounding a particular occupation or pursuit: the mystique of nuclear science.
When I speak of the workers’ “mystique,” I am meaning much the same thing that is sometimes referred to as “putting the workers on a pedestal,” or “worshiping the workers.” But I do want to clarify that I in no way intend this as being “critical,” or “judgmental” of individuals. As I view it, it’s something we’re all a part of, in many ways. We have probably all idolized certain individuals—not necessarily workers, or even professing people—and have possibly realized later that we’ve given them too much “authority” in our lives. And society, including ourselves, consistently puts “public figures” on pedestals—celebrities, political figures, etc. We admire them, we emulate them, we look to them to “change things,” and we are very frequently disappointed in time! But we repeatedly do it. We can react in blaming or criticizing them, but we can also look to our own culpability in it all.
When I began in the work—as I’ve written in other threads here (I think)—I found that I was instantly “looked up to” by the friends. And perhaps it’s not so wrong to want someone whom one can admire and respect. But maybe we do make a mistake in the assumption that the place—the “title”—automatically confers a special quality on a person. It’s complex, and we’re all intricately involved. I enjoyed the honor, yet it scared me. I felt happy at being a “servant of God,” yet I soon wondered why I didn’t feel any different, didn’t seem to have any special wisdom, though people at times questioned me as if I did, and I attempted to fill the role. At this point—still very much a beginner—I don’t view my role as being dishonest as much as puzzled and desperately trying to do what seemed to be expected of me. And I am very hesitant to call others dishonest too, but see them as people caught up in something they really can’t see their way out of.
I accumulated questions as the (18) years passed, and some things greatly bothered me, yet I continued to view them as exceptions, and I would, as expected, defend “the ministry” or try to “keep in my place,” not wanting to worry about something that was “someone else’s responsibility.” I’m using phrases that are commonly used among workers and in a way that I was specifically taught by older companions and other workers.
I am going to use a metaphor here to analyze some practices—please allow me to explain how I intend to use the word, as I can see it bringing some immediate negative reaction! That word is theater. But!! In talking about theater and roles, I am not at all implying something “fake” or “pretend.” This word is sometimes used in analyzing rituals, celebrations, and other practices in societies. It does not imply either a negative or a positive value when used in this manner.
Think of a theater as a specific place that is formed for a specific purpose, perhaps only for a few hours or a day—a park with all the decorations for a July 4 celebration, a school awards assembly, a religious service/observation, a sporting event, a concert . . . even sitting around the table for supper as a family can be analyzed this way. We all have specific roles we’re expected to play in these “theaters, on various “stages,” and our “performance” of the role is evaluated by those in “authority,” and the correct way of playing the role is taught through example, admonishment, withholding of approval, and so on. We’re all actors and we’re all audience members.
Now, let’s think of convention as a large theater. Again, this does not mean that God is not in it, that we do not hear God’s voice there. But let’s not allow our view of it as sacred—as “holy grounds”—to prevent us from acknowledging that it is a practice instituted by humans—they may or may not have been directed by God, but there was a historic time—a century or so ago—when workers first decided to conduct conventions. They have changed through the years in number of days and in the way things are done—even down to deciding who speaks when—and these changes are all people’s decisions. Many decisions may be basically mundane—the menu, the color of buildings, etc., but other decisions are of course of far greater import.
We California workers often joked about “living by the list,” and many of those lists concerned convention—speaking lists, sleeping arrangements lists, “tea-serving” lists, platform lists, transportation lists, cooking schedules, song–leaders lists . . . and more. People made those lists—some of the decisions they reflect are good, some bad. I have made many lists myself, often pertaining to transportation, and I certainly can’t say they were “of God.” Perhaps there was an occasional “inspired’ decision, but, for the most part, I was simply trying to work out a practical arrangement, which included avoiding any “issues” I was aware of—certain people that shouldn’t be together, etc.
This all points to human involvement in the planning and organization of the convention. To turn now to the topic—worker mystique—let’s consider some of the “visuals.” When I began in the work, I was very aware that I was now sitting in a very visible position—up there, on a particular side of the platform (the side varies from convention to convention). And it was another “step” when I had been in the work a few years and was assigned to sit on the platform. Is this seating of workers in front, separate from and in view of everyone else, not a visual reinforcement of an “authority,” or “sacredness”? I am not at all saying workers should be disrespected, yet these things that create a mystique about them tend to preclude questioning of words and actions—not every single time, but often enough. And of course, the separate treatment follows through in dining, sleeping quarters, etc. Some of it may be for very practical reasons, but they are nevertheless placed somewhere “up there, out of reach.”
The friends also play roles—sharing testimonies, doing various jobs around convention, even their quietness at night, or whether they go off the grounds. And the workers are watching, evaluating—I’ve been there. It’s not generally done to criticize, but almost “proud” of the friends from one’s field (or past fields). This is not all bad either—it is wonderful to see people growing, maturing, perhaps hurts healed, marriages mended. But what I do notice too—and I see this very much in myself—is that is so easy to be aware of being watched at convention, and performing accordingly. This is another place where I feel the theater metaphor is particularly apt. We praise children for “willingness to serve,” but I wonder how willing some of them might be back at home, particularly when they’re not told to wash dishes or whatever. Sometimes large sums of money are handed to workers at convention, and they are praised (privately) for it, while helping some other charitable organization is often frowned on, because “that money could have been given to the workers.” A man once gave me $600, and I had never been in his field, but I was aware that he had a serious problem with drugs. I asked another worker, who knew the situation better, if I should accept the money, and he told me to accept it, because no one had yet told the man his money would be refused. I accepted the money and gave it to the older workers. Should I have refused it, based on my own knowledge and conviction? Maybe. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do in the system I was living in. I was very aware of trying to do and to “be” what I thought “they” wanted me to be.
This kind of thing can happen outside of convention, of course, but I believe convention is a place where more “righteousness” occurs, partly because of the “atmosphere,” but also partly because people are aware of being “evaluated.”
I used a lot of island parables in the work—and that may not have been the best—but people liked them. But once I questioned the wrong person, I was suddenly viewed as “too hung up on culture.” Workers hinted to me that this would “take me out.” I’m not plugging for my view on culture here, but am pointing out that something they once liked was now used to criticize me. The connection with convention? Testimonies are evaluated. I can express myself fairly well, and I used to get a lot of “amens.’ That probably wasn’t the best thing for my ego, but I do believe I was trying to be honest, opening up and sharing what I had felt and learned. But suddenly, after this stuff began to happen, I would receive a deathly silence after I spoke in convention. I was hurting, and took comfort from Biblical stories of people who had felt very alone—Joseph, Job, David, Gideon. The thing I’m attempting to point out here is the evaluation of the performance of roles—a person is made to know if they are “approved” or not, and we generally either change and fit in, move on out, or live kind of “on the fringe.”
We could go on for hours about different roles, expectations, and evaluations, but maybe this is enough to show what I’m trying to say. And please, please understand that I am not saying this to “blast” anyone. We are all involved; we all help to create and maintain this mystique. Do we simply expect “them”—the leaders—to change, or do we interrogate our own involvement and take an appropriate stand ourselves?