I’m slightly obsessed by stories of extremist cults. Books, documentaries, podcasts—I’ll consume it. It’s fascinating watching the same story play out again and again—charismatic leader, sincere followers, answers and perfection, isolation and abuse. There’s always a special twist, a different doctrine, a new look. Some are less abusive than others. Some are more sincere than others. And I’m fascinated by each, I think, because it’s an insight into an entirely different world, a community which has isolated itself, which lives intentionally very different from the everyday world. An exposé gives me a glimpse into a fascinating, foreign world. With distance, it’s easy to feel superior. How were these people so gullible? Wasn’t it obvious that this leader was just a grifter? I’m not that susceptible, I tell myself, partly because I’ve consumed enough of these stories to recognize a cult when I see one.
Of course, that’s prideful and in a way makes
me susceptible. People get sucked into cults for all kinds of reasons, usually
emotional, not logical, ones. Love-bombing works for a reason. Often, belonging
is more important than the specific beliefs. We are apt to trade a bit of
freedom and logic for love.
But one mistake I made in my ideas about cults
is that they separated themselves, that there was a clear line between this
group and that one. I thought people would disagree about a group being a cult,
but in reality, there are cults in which people disagree about being a group at
all. These cults operate around charismatic leaders, but the followers don’t
realize how much control the leader has over them. They think the leader is
just a person they like to watch online. They don’t attend formal meetings or
have a register. They don’t move off to a rural compound, or even put up their
own church.
Rather, these cults operate everywhere, in the
minds and phones of people that belong to other organized structures and would
never call their interest in this leader a cult. Yet they consume and
internalize the leader’s views. [I'm being intentional vague, as I don't want to call out a particular personality over another. There are dozens, hundreds, some more dangerous than others in their control and rhetoric. But the particulars are the relevant point here.]
I was impervious to these cults of personality
and ideology at first. Isn’t the leader just a popular writer/YouTuber/politician/professor?
What’s wrong with being his fan? And that’s what makes it tricky, because a
leader can have lots of fans who have a healthy way of consuming the leader’s
message, deciding whether to accept or reject it, and integrating it into their
larger pool of resources shaping their worldview. But others take the leader as
always right and accept his messages without scrutiny. They become defensive at
disagreement, turning further and further inward.
And the tricky thing is that some of these
cults exist within a church. There are cults within the Catholic Church—cults of
personality and cults of ideological communities—who call themselves Catholic,
maybe even “real” Catholics or “true” Catholics. But they only see the Church
through a narrow, distorted lens.
These interior cults aren’t easy to see, or
they weren’t. In the past few years it’s become more and more clear how these
mostly-online fandoms become cults and affect the real world. And suddenly two
people who share the same pew every Sunday can barely communicate—they are in
the same place, but their ideas are so distant it’s hard to find a common
ground, even the common ground of a shared professed faith.
I don’t have a solution to this problem. I don’t think anyone
does yet. I fear for where the country is at, and where it looks like it may
continue to go. The division is strong, and healing seems almost unattainable.
Healing only happens after the hurting stops.
But this realization—that cults can exist within other
groups—opened my eyes to a blind spot I once had. I thought being active in a Catholic,
or Lutheran, or Presbyterian, or etc etc church would serve as a bulwark
against fantastical lies, fanaticism, and charismatic leaders. The Church has documents
and tradition and structure to stay grounded regardless of fads. The Church is
rooted in Christ, not an online talking head. I thought that was enough. It
should be enough. And yet, these cults rise up. And they convince themselves
that they are totally compatible with the faith, maybe even that they are only
ones with true faith.
This realization made me examine if I followed any person
with cult-like devotion. And it helped me when interacting with others that logic
and debate is not a helpful tool these days. Members of cults don’t leave
because an outsider tells them they’re wrong. Instead, interactions need to
offer what the cult can’t—real compassion.
There are discussions to be had on how to combat dangerous ideologies
or how to break through to those caught up in cults, and I’ll certainly consume
the forthcoming podcasts and documentaries. But in the real world, the physical
world of human interaction, it’s best to ignore the labels (though not ignore
red flags) and get to know the person. Open doors, plant seeds, and pray for unity.
