Autonomy As Literal Slavery
No.131: October 28, 2022
Welcome to The Square Inch, a Friday newsletter on Christianity, culture, and all of the many-varied “square inches” of God’s domain. This publication is free for now, but please consider clicking on the button at the bottom to become a paid subscriber to enjoy this along with Monday’s “Off The Shelf” feature about books and Wednesday’s “The Quarter Inch,” a quick(er) commentary on current events.
Dear Friends,
I spent a great deal of time writing a lengthy essay this week but I’ve decided to shelve it for now. For one thing, it relates to the whole buzz about “Christian Nationalism” that’s going on, and since that debate is going to be around for awhile I see no need to have it dominate The Square Inch. It will appear in due time, but let’s take a break from it, shall we?
A couple of weeks ago I clicked on Season 1, Episode 1 of a documentary series on HBO Max. I didn’t think I’d stick with it, but I was mildly interested. It is called The Vow. The advertising and marketing for this series writes itself; you won’t have too much trouble getting people to watch a show about a “sex cult.” It is marginally about that, but it is actually about so much more. And as I watch, amazed, at a total charlatan duping vulnerable people into thinking he’s got life-transforming answers for them, I cannot help but have a lot of thoughts about the gospel, the church, and contemporary society.
Keith Reniere is currently residing in a Federal penitentiary, where he will remain for the next 120 years or until his death, whichever comes first. And we know which will be first.
He is the mastermind of a multi-level marketing program called “Executive Success Programs,” which is one branch of his umbrella company NXIVM (“Nexium”). Here’s the short summary of what I believe: Keith Reniere likely studied the career of L. Ron Hubbard and decided that if Hubbard could do it with Scientology, so could he. He posed as a kind of genius and Renaissance man: a credentialed “scientist” who had discovered techniques to overcome life’s problems; so committed was he to avoid weird religious “occult” associations that everything is presented as “scientific.” The techniques are called “technologies.” No space aliens here. And the cult itself was called … Executive Success Programs? That sounds like an afternoon self-improvement seminar in the conference room of your local Holiday Inn. And that is, in fact, how it all started.
Here’s what makes Keith Raniere and NXIVM different. One of his early converts was a filmmaker (with a strict South African Calvinist upbringing, interestingly enough) whom he quickly roped into service. The documentary series, The Vow, is largely about that filmmaker and his ultimate departure from the group and it uses all of his footage. The result is essentially an in-depth, intimate look directly into the formation of a cult. With no other secret organization do we have this kind of access. How does he do it? How does he convince these people he’s some kind of genius? What does he say? What kinds of diagnoses is he making in people’s lives and what kind of solutions is he offering? What are the techniques by which he singles them out and exerts power over them? Power that eventually does lead to the creation of a super-duper secret worldwide harem of women who are not only at his beck-and-call as literal slaves, but who willingly brand themselves with his initials? What is the road from, “Tell me your problems?” to “brand yourself with a hot iron and be my slave?” The Vow explains it all painstakingly.*
*But, I should note for you, not explicitly. There is actually not a lot of focus on the secret “sex cult” at all in the film, and definitely not anything explicit. Also, fair warning: they don’t bleep out profanity, and one episode in particular has Reniere going off in extremely offensive ways.
It is quite agonizing to watch the survivors of this group try to process that road. Looking back they cannot believe how easily they were manipulated by this sociopath, who had convinced them that everything he did was for their own self-improvement—especially his own abuse of them.
As a Christian and a theologian I watch all this with certain interests, and the show just keeps on addressing those interests and so I keep watching. On the one hand, I can predict almost all of it—a solid worldview foundation in theology and philosophy enables one to do so. Of course your problems are caused by internal “wounds” that have been externally inflicted on you by the outside world; of course “you” are this autonomous master of yourself who must transcend and overcome your lower, bestial appetites and your own emotions. Of course autonomy is the answer. And, lickety-split, you wake up one day Keith Reniere’s literal slave. The Devil always delivers the opposite of what he promises. This instance is just more spectacular than usual.
It’s a mish-mash of bad Platonic philosophy and a barge-load of Freudian pseudo-psychology. Most of it is made up out of whole cloth. One thing about this show is that it features Keith Reniere talking. And talking. And talking. A lot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man more in love with his own voice, and it does get really tiresome. He is the biggest blowhard I’ve ever seen. But I think there are lessons to be learned—it isn’t every day the secrets of a mystery cult are broadcast for us all to hear—and an opportunity to heed those lessons. Here are few of my brief takeaways (and keep in mind I’m writing this on the fly after shelving today’s planned missive so they may not be fully thought out).
People are desperate for meaning. I watch these folks getting lured into this “Executive Success Program,” and I watch with horror the pseudo-gospel they are offered. And these programs are an astonishing success. The room is initially full of love and support, camaraderie and community; they have “found” something. They begin to feel like they understand themselves and others. They cannot wait to go out and recruit everyone else to come to the program.
Are they falling for this false gospel because, well, they’re totally depraved by Original Sin and so that’s what you’d expect? That is a tidy answer, but people are more complicated than that. You get to know these people in the film; they are earnest and brutally honest about themselves, their failures, and their insecurities. In a very real sense, they are seeking something and they are finding something. They are finding pseudo-solutions and half-truths, just enough to make a little bit of difference in their lives and to keep them hooked. Yes, everyone has to stand before God some day and give an account; but also everyone is a victim. The Apostle Paul is clear about this: on the one hand he writes that we are all guilty perpetrators of rebellion against God; on the other hand he writes that we are slaves of sin and the powers of darkness. We are simultaneously perpetrators and victims. We are liable victims. Seems a paradox, doesn’t it? Well, sin is a paradox—a completely irrational abnormality in the world God created.
So when I watch the film of these programs and see all of these desperate people “finding” something, and watching their tears of joy and laughter, the love and support they show one another, and their zeal to shout their discovery from the rooftops, I cannot help but think to myself: when was the last time I experienced a church like that? And why don’t I ever encounter a church like that? NXIVM was filling a real void, and I am not at all sure the church at large is doing much to fill that void. Of course, I’m just one guy who hasn’t visited every church—it’s just an impression. I can say for sure the people taken in by NXIVM hadn’t ever experienced anything like it.
I watch a world-class charlatan and fraud like Keith Reniere doling out hogwash with tiny elements of truth mixed in, and people feel like, “He understands me!” Why do preachers dole out week after week what is supposed to be the most freeing, most exciting news the universe has ever heard, news into which angels long to look, and people are … meh? Are they really preaching it? Are they “landing” it in places where people feel it? Are they giving real answers to people’s desperate desire for meaning? This, is seems to me, is a question very much worth asking.
Maybe you might reply that the church has been doing the “seeker sensitive” thing for decades now, and many churches have seen the kinds of explosive growth this cult did. That is a good observation and reply, I admit. I am not an advocate of building a church around the “felt needs” of seekers, and I would argue that those kinds of churches usually experience a lot of numerical growth but not a lot of substantive growth in spiritual maturity. But I do have to insist—I must insist—that authentic proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the glory of God and his love for us and our forgiveness of sins and liberation from our bondage, ought to see results. It should see conversions. That should be our expectation. I am a dyed-in-the-wool Calvinist. I know that salvation is a work of the Holy Spirit. But also because I am a Calvinist, I know, as Calvin himself did, that God has promised that the Holy Spirit works through the Word. No, we should not be chasing “results.” We should be chasing deeper and more persuasive and more effective proclamations of the gospel. People need to hear and think, “God understands me!” not “Meh.”
My second observation is a bit more of a downer. It does get uncomfortable watching hours of a sociopath manipulate people, pressure them, and gaslight them whenever they resist (“Why are you so angry?” “What fears are causing you to think that about me?” “I know this is painful, but this is for your own good.”). It is uncomfortable because the church, too, has plenty of those people. I don’t think too many pastors and Christian leaders are busy building harems of secret sex-slaves—well, I hope Ravi Zacharias was an outlier—but far too many wield their influence and authority in abusive ways. The popular podcast The Rise & Fall of Mars Hill documents that kind of behavior, and the examples can be sadly multiplied. So that, too, deserves some introspection on the part of God’s servants in the church. Huh. Look how I instinctively just typed that: servants. Not lords.
The aftermath of it all, I must say, moves me (and I still have two episodes left). Those who came to their senses and finally saw what was going on are burdened with such profound guilt, especially ones who were leaders who recruited hundreds, if not thousands, to join the group. They keep saying, with tears in their eyes: “I don’t know how to un-@!*% my head, knowing what I did.”
It’s not just the people going in that need the gospel; it’s the ones coming out, too.
That’s it for this week’s The Square Inch. I’d love it if you’d consider upgrading to a paid subscription. It’s cheap, and you’ll get a Monday newsletter highlighting something about a book, and a Wednesday current events roundup. Have a wonderful weekend!
This is something that really happened?! In regard to the church, don't you gather that, in some areas, the church is vibrant, presenting a wonderful Gospel -- and growing?