My experiences with Jehovah's Witnesses

Publications I regularly get from Jehovah's Witnesses

Recently I read a story about members of Jehovah’s Witnesses (JW) church in Zimbabwe, who were suing Arundel School for forcing their children to attend Anglican Mass. 

The parents were arguing that they would prefer that their children be exempted from the Anglican Church services as they only worship in the Kingdom Halls. It became a very emotive issue when readers shared their opinions regarding the issue. Most people called JW a cult and suggested they build their own schools, not impose their ideologies on a school whose ideals they knew before enrolling their children. 

JW have been the butt of every religious joke for as long as I can remember, but I think most of the time people judge them out of turn. One of my favourite comedies, Coming to America also made fun of JW. Theo, Lisa’s father realised that Hakeem was actually a rich prince and immediately decided he wanted nothing to do with the American boyfriend with the oily perm, Darryl. While Hakeem was in the house, trying to make sense of Theo’s new attitude, Darryl came knocking on the door, which Theo immediately slammed in his face, smiled at Hakeem, waved his hand perfunctorily and said, “Jehovah’s Witnesses!”

I like to keep an open mind about people and philosophies. I want to have a firsthand experience on something or with someone before I dismiss them. At school when I was younger, I remember there was always a friendless schoolmate who everybody shunned on the simple basis that, “people say she is snobbish”, without anyone ever having a firsthand account of the snobbishness. In the neighbourhood, there was also, almost always, a lonely old woman who everybody feared because “vanhu vanoti vanoroya” (people say she is a witch).  What a sad and juvenile way to go through life.

When I was a child, there was an old woman in the neighbourhood who everyone called Mbuya Ruredzo Mustawara (derived from one of JW’s publications The Watchtower). Nobody else was called by their churches, like So and So the Catholic, or Jim the Methodist. I have a few memorable experiences with JW. When I used to stay in Harare, my neighbour was a Witness. In 2007, she offered to do bible studies with me and brought her friends along. They were among the loveliest people I ever met. In them I found friends that stood by me through some of my difficult moments. Eventually I had to move houses and never got to see them again.

I didn’t do bible study with JW for a very long time, until in 2010 when I met a Zimbabwean woman in Randburg, South Africa, from the church. I resumed studies with her and had fun. The studies kept me on my toes in terms of my bible reading. Sometimes I totally didn’t agree with some of the JW’s interpretation, but that didn’t affect my relationship with Sarah. Contrary to what people say about JWs forcing their beliefs down people’s throat, she would explain what she and her church believed, but did not take offence with my own beliefs.  It helped that she was a fellow compatriot and we had other things to talk about apart from the bible. Sometimes I could not meet Sarah because 2010 was a very difficult year for me. I simply had to let her know in advance that I was unavailable. Unfortunately she had to move to Cape Town, but she left me in the hands of a lady in her seventies, who I’ll call Maggie*. 

One of many Jehovah's Witnesses jokes

Maggie gave me hell.  At the start of our relationship, she came across as a very sweet and understanding old lady. She always showed up punctually for bible studies and invited me to her home for tea. We discussed the bible and flowers and she even gave me some. When I couldn’t make our weekly appointments, I would just send her a text to let her know and she would take offence. I could feel the tension even from the texts. When she saw me next, her face would be taut and she would ask about the last meeting I missed. I would apologise, again, and she would tell me that she had been thinking about me a lot, wondering if I was serious about my studies.

Bit by bit, I started losing my ground in our relationship and my territorial prerogatives to Maggie. She started acting like the headmistress, or a shrewd stepmother even, always laying down the law and cracking the whip, telling me what was acceptable and unacceptable to do. She discouraged me from spending time with friends that “were not saved” and told me she and her other church mate, also in her 70s, were good enough friends for me. She also gave me a JW bible and insinuated the one I had was full of lies.  Every time I was incapable of meeting her, my heart would skip a few beats as I sent her the text to cancel. I liked the lessons. They were good for spiritual uplifting, but Maggie was fast reminding me of the famous story of the Arab and the camel. I swear I was becoming afraid of her. In case you don’t know the camel story, here goes a version of it:

One cold night, as an Arab sat in his tent, a camel gently thrust his nose under the flap and looked in. "Master," he said, "let me put my nose in your tent. It's cold and stormy out here." "By all means," said the Arab, "and welcome" as he turned over and went to sleep.

A little later the Arab awoke to find that the camel had not only put his nose in the tent but his head and neck also. The camel, who had been turning his head from side to side, said, "I will take but little more room if I place my forelegs within the tent. It is difficult standing out here." "Yes, you may put your forelegs within," said the Arab, moving a little to make room, for the tent was small.

Finally, the camel said, "May I not stand wholly inside? I keep the tent open by standing as I do." "Yes, yes," said the Arab. "Come wholly inside. Perhaps it will be better for both of us." So the camel crowded in. The Arab with difficulty in the crowded quarters again went to sleep. When he woke up the next time, he was outside in the cold and the camel had the tent to himself. 

I got accepted at university to further my studies. Everybody I told congratulated me, except Maggie. As soon as I told her I would be going to university, that tight smile came back to her face. Those who have watched Desperate Housewives will familiarize themselves with that smile on Bree. Maggie said, “What about your studies?” I said I would make a plan about the studies, even though I knew that chances were very slim I would ever see her again. For me, the studies were the escape that I needed.  Maggie was slowly taking over my life! She went on to tell me that I didn’t need to go to university. I was supposed to worry more about my afterlife, not this one which was transitory. “Join me for Jehovah’s work. It’s more gratifying,” she said. It was as if she was trying to blackmail me, making me feel guilty for choosing university over Jehovah. I explained to her that I was only in my early 30s, still wanted to grow my family hence I needed to work. I omitted to tell her that all her kids were grown and she had a business, which the husband ran, so she didn’t really need to work a day in her life.  It was like speaking to a stone.

I didn’t like that Maggie insisted that I only got to know “the truth” when I started my studies with JWs. She said everything else I had learned were lies.  This holier-than-thou attitude really got on my nerves because I know JW that engage in deviant activities like the rest of us. The bible, in Romans 3:23 states “For all have sinned and come short of His glory.” Maggie also started bullying me into getting baptized at her church, even after I told her I had already been baptized in the Methodist Church. She insinuated that the first baptism was inconsequential because I didn’t know “the truth” when it happened.

During my days at university I hardly saw her, but she did drop by in my absence and left Watchtower and Awake! publications under my door. The publications from JW are extremely informative and well-researched and I looked forward to getting them. Even my husband became an avid reader. The first person to introduce me to them was a former colleague called Gilbert Maglas, may his soul rest in peace. He was such a pleasant man. Just before relocating to Swaziland, I got in touch with Maggie to let her know I was relocating and would be glad to see her one last time and say my goodbyes. Unfortunately I had to cancel again because I had many potential tenants coming to view the house we were leaving and I was packing, so I could not spare a moment to entertain.  As I was busy hustling and bustling, from the corner of my eye, I saw what looked like Maggie’s car. To my horror and dismay, it was! I had told her I was not available and she didn’t respond to my message. She insisted on seeing me whether I liked it or not. I didn’t think that was fair, so I sent my helper to let her know I was unavailable. I was watching her from my stairs, hiding, and I could see her craning her neck towards the house. She knew she had been lied to, but I was too flustered to care. That was the last I saw of her, craning her neck with a grim expression on her face.

Bible I got from Maggie*

I haven’t touched base with her again. Strangely enough, writing this has caused a paroxysm of nostalgia. I actually miss her. She was a bully and was uncompromising, but I wouldn’t say she was a bad person.  I just needed to be more resolute in my decisions and should have played open cards when I felt she was being domineering. If I were to see her again, I’d be frank with her and tell her about her attitude problems. I think I’ve managed to grow a pair over the past few years that I haven’t been with her.  I think I will get in touch with her and roll my eyes when the chastisement starts. I miss our lessons together because I have a spiritual need that is not being fulfilled. She is a bad advertisement for JW, but I don’t think she is representative of all of them.

I don’t believe JW is a cult. I believe they just have a divergent interpretation of the bible, which no-one is compelled to accept. You can’t dislike or fear someone simply because they hold different views to yourself. You can listen to them and stay in your lane. It’s our diversity that makes this world a beautiful place. It only becomes a problem if the differences are so extreme that people hold guns to other people’s heads. I just know that you need all your wits around you when you study with JW because they are a very unwavering lot. You need to know your bible well so that you can argue when you disagree with something they say. I disagree with the malicious allegations against JWs, but my wish is for them to know we are all sinners. Their lessons are great. They encourage moral uprightness, their dress code is really dignified and they encourage healthy family lives. Most people just judge them without ever giving themselves a chance to know what they are all about. When you see those JWs distributing pamphlets on the roadside, do accept. Just don’t allow them the people to forcibly get under your skin; some of them will try to. They are quite a good read. I just got some today J.

It's not always easy to be a practicing Christian

On Monday I learned once more how difficult it is to practice Christianity to a tee. There is a Tuberculosis Hospital near my son’s school. On my way from picking him, I saw a woman coming from the hospital who appeared to be drunk as she was not very stable on her feet. At close inspection, it was clear that she was quite ill and needed a lift.  I was at a busy junction, monitoring traffic from my left and right so that I could get onto the highway, and had a long queue of cars behind me. I got so overwhelmed and drove off. Apart from the fact that I was keeping my eyes on the road, a lot of thoughts were whizzing in my head. I feared that she could have been so ill that she could have got into the car and died, and then I would have had a really messy situation on my hands. I would probably still be at the police station getting my fingerprints taken and “assisting with investigations”. Maybe the woman’s family would have been there too, baying for my blood and claiming that she hadn’t been that sick when she left home and demanding that I shame the devil and tell the truth about what really happened. Weird things can happen when someone dies.

The bible, however, doesn’t teach us to justify our transgressions. It encourages us to help whenever it’s within our capacity to help. I even have the verses on giving at the tips of my fingers:

Proverbs 3:27 – Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of your hand to do it. 

Proverbs 28:27 – He that gives to the poor shall not lack: but he that hides his eyes shall have many a curse. 

Luke 3:11 – He answered and said to them, He that has two coats, let him impart to him that has none; and he that has meat, let him do likewise.

But that’s just what this accursed world has come to; reading the bible from cover to cover without putting what it says into practice.

When I got home, I wished I had stopped and picked her even if the ensuing delay would have annoyed other drivers. On the other hand, that would probably not have been wise. I don’t really know much about TB, which I know, at certain stages, can be highly contagious. Maybe there are precautions I needed to take before having her in the car. But what made me feel so bad was that she was someone’s mom and she was vulnerable. I would have wanted my mom to be helped if she ever found herself in such a position. Then I also thought, if I can feel bad about this, it probably means I don’t really have an evil little heart. If I were cruel, I would have had no contrition whatsoever. Deep down, though, I know that a good heart is useless if it is not put to good use. Matthew 5:16 says, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” The goodness of my heart shouldn’t reflect from what I say but from what I do. I should have just called the police. The Royal Swazi Police have their moments of amazing grace. I’ve heard of drunkards that call the police to take them home when they can’t drive anymore, and they’re chauffeured home!

As I was busy beating myself up, I thought of a story I heard at church a long time ago. A woman was told that Jesus was going to visit her. She cleaned the house and yard from top to bottom.  A dirty old man walked into her yard asking for food. She chased him away and hit him with a broomstick. She waited and waited, but Jesus did not show up. The angel that had notified her of the visit came back, and before he could say anything, the woman complained that Jesus had stood her up. The angel told her that the old man she had shooed away had been Jesus. The moral of the story was that if you claim to be a Christian, treat everyone as you would Jesus. And I failed dismallyL.

Robbing people in the name of Jesus

I’m very disturbed by the conspicuous consumption I see in the church leaders of today. It appears worshipping God or becoming a pastor has less to do with having a calling and more to do with having a clearly thought out business plan to hoodwink people using the bible. Gone are the days when people went to church to be spiritually enriched. Now they just go to be impoverished and spiritually tormented by demands for monetary contributions with promises of blessings if they give more. Most Christians don’t take time to read the bible by themselves and rely more on their pastors to interpret the bible for them. As a result, they become so terrified of God punishing them if they don’t give “to the church”. Who really is the church? I thought “the church” was the congregation, but pastors are the only ones benefitting from the hard-earned cash of the flock they are supposed to lead. They are wolves in pastors clothing, preying on the sheep that follow them blindly.

I’ve had several conversations with my friends regarding the issue of supporting the church financially, and some of their views are below. Some feel they should continue giving because the bible states that they should do so, others are more cautious. There are indeed verses in the bible that encourage people to support the church, but I know they don’t say the pastor should become a fat cat at the expense of the congregants. Particular stories that are abused include the one of the poor widow who gave everything she had to the temple (Mark 12:41-44), as well as the one about Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5: 1-11).

Pastors are cruising in top of the range vehicles while their congregants remain without two cents to rub together to support these opulent lifestyles. I remember a lot of things that have turned me into the bitter Christian I am today. I remember tithing seasons at the Methodist church I grew up in. Some people would completely stop coming to church because of the onslaught that was unleashed on those that dared not give a tenth of their earnings to the Lord. I also remember how a District Superintendent had a vehicle bought for him using church funds to enable him to supervise the churches in his constituency better. However, as he drove to church on Sunday mornings, he would wave at some of the people who contributed these funds as they trudged to church with their dusty shoes, never offering them a lift. Word on the church benches was that he even used the vehicle to go to Chiadzwa to illegally procure diamonds for his own (further) enrichment.

I also remember a time when the church hall had to be extended as the congregation had grown bigger and late comers had to listen to the sermon from the windows while standing outside. My father was responsible for fundraising for the project. He stays in a small town without a lot of industrial work, so the majority of the inhabitants are poor. But then again, even those in the big cities of Zimbabwe are also poor. Anyway, the project hit a snag when it was time to roof the hall. My poor father had become extremely unpopular for standing in front of the church requesting donations for the roof. The rainy season was fast approaching and the hall still had no roof. People would carry umbrellas to church to protect themselves from the elements.

Along with the rainy season came the pastor’s welcome party, and church protocol demanded that it was to be grandly commemorated, with the good shepherd being showered with gifts. This was despite the fact that the pastor was coming back to the church for his second term. He still had to be re-welcomed. People would dig deep into their shallow pockets to ensure they showed their allegiance. Section leaders stalked those who hadn’t made contributions for the big party, poverty was not an excuse.

My father was there again in front of the church before the grandiose event. He requested that the celebrations be postponed until the church roof was up. There was a huge brouhaha, instigated by none other than the reverend himself and supported by his henchmen and women. The reverend (with nothing to be revered about him as far as I was concerned) told my father that he was out of line trying to change church rules. He said the church would be in trouble if the headquarters heard that the party had been postponed, it had to be done at the stipulated time. Really? What would they have done, charge the pastor with misdemeanour and send him to hell for not receiving his gifts? The pastor’s friends looked at father like he was the devil in their midst. At the end of the service, people were huddled with the pastor, whispering, reassuring him the party would happen, and giving my father dark looks. I feared for his life and didn’t rule out an assassination attempt. In the end, the party went ahead and my father had to contribute to it too as all eyes were on him, wanting to see if he would be the anti-pastor.

I also haven’t forgotten the birthday parties held for pastors and their wives, with bibles pointed to the heads of poor congregants and mantras like, “give and you shall receive” being chanted ad nauseam. People would be forced to throw lavish parties for church leaders but had to contend with their kids singing Happy birthday to you when their own birthdays came.

My policy is that if I have money, I would honestly rather give it to the needy, not line pastors’ pockets. I doubt that God would judge me for that. I asked the Christians in my circle for their sentiments around the issue of tithing or giving to the church and their responses are as follows:

Dad: Partly we are happy when the monies we give to the church go towards pastoral support and are used to maintain the church hall and other necessities. But we grumble when we are made to fund the birthdays of pastor and his wife and that of the District Superintendent and to have to welcome pastor and DS despite being with them for more than two years.

Mainini Tatenda: It is biblical to give so that you receive and I think it’s the same principle anywhere else. It’s important for us to get preachings on tithing etc. as much as we learn about marriage and praying. It is now a personal decision on whether one should tithe or not. I have heard some preachings on giving first fruit and harvest. Because I have not totally understood it, I have not given any of these. Until I do have some idea, then I will participate…so more preaching on them is required for me. As for giving to pastors, I think it’s also biblical and it’s up to one to do so. Apparently some people have been blessed through it. Our giving should be well-rounded though, and remember relatives and neighbours who need giving too. At my church we are given a financial report that shows how much went in and expenses etc.

Sihle: I don’t tithe because I haven’t seen anywhere in the New Testament where I am required to do so. There is nowhere where Jesus said I should tithe. I understand that it was a practice in the Old Testament and all the other stuff that they used to do like those sacrifices. What I don’t understand or have a problem with is how everything else is done away with and people find it convenient to choose tithing. My argument is if people want to go by the book, then let’s not be selective. We are now in a new dispensation with the birth and death of Christ. Why do we go to church on Sunday when the word clearly says we should observe Sabbath? I do go by what the New Testament says that I should not give under compulsion and that I do where I feel led to do. I also don’t seed because there’s no biblical reference to it. Where in the bible does it say for you to receive your blessing you need to have sown a seed? My question is what happens to someone who doesn’t have money? Are we saying because they don’t have then they don’t deserve blessings? As for pastors’ birthdays, I have not time for that. The main problem is us the congregants who take our pastors as gods. But that issue is most prevalent in Pentecostals because they were formed by individuals, unlike the main line churches which don’t belong to a particular person.

Erica: I am a Christian and I follow the bible. I like sermons on tithing because they are guidelines from the bible. Other givings like birthdays, welcomes etc I give willingly depending on availability of funds and budget and I give knowing that I’m giving God’s messenger. Whatever I give, I’m happy as long as it’s being used in the church to worship the Lord. Even if the money is used to buy bacon (a delicacy for most Zimbabweans) so be it. What I know is I would have done my part.

Auntie Lillian: Tithing is God’s mandate. Everyone must give a tithe. The good thing about tithes is they are not compulsory, you just give a tenth. Sermons on giving and tithing are uplifting depending on what you think the bible says. The biggest issue is on the birthdays. People’s contributions or what they should buy are dictated to them. Sections are told how much to pay towards these birthdays even though some people cannot afford it. In such cases people should just be encouraged to give what they can, not specific sums of money. Often it’s too much for one person. Like you must fulfill church obligations, then the same person must fulfill obligations for RRW (Mother’s Union). If you have UMYF (youth) in your house, you are also responsible for their contribution. That is not fair, but with tithes, it I have $10, I can give $1 to the church and I’m done.

Tadiwa: Honestly I haven’t been tithing. I know it’s not biblical but I’ve been giving the needy what they need when I can. Birthdays shouldn’t be sponsored by church members. Pastor is at work in the church. No-one throws a birthday party for me at my workplace. If he’s clever he can do own party and catch the congregation on the gifts. Our church has become classy at the expense of looking after the poor.

Milcah: I think sermons on tithing aren’t bad as the bible says it should be done. What’s wrong is manipulating the verses by threatening the congregation. Then giving to the church is also an obligation of the congregation and the bible says so. But it shouldn’t be a daily song, rather it has to be a reminder once in a while since people tend to be reluctant to provide for pastors. What’s wrong is when those who give more financially are given positions or begin to be held in high esteem instead of having those who are spiritually gifted. I personally used to avoid going to the United Methodist Church during the harvest period because I’d be bombarded with preachings about money at church and cell group meetings. It’s almost like they’d be forcing you instead of encouraging you to pay. Birthday celebrations for pastors shouldn’t be mandatory. If the church is happy with the services of the pastor, they can easily spoil him with a birthday party. But if you are forcibly made to contribute, then that would be wrong. Whenever I have the money I make sure I tithe. When I was working I’d never skip a month. If I’m to work again I will tithe consistently. 

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Of predatory men of the cloth, friends, and trusting yourself before others

Of predatory men of the cloth, friends, and trusting yourself before others...

My friend Sihle and I were discussing how people are overly dependent on others. We sometimes have an astounding lack of faith in ourselves and end up placing our life decisions in the hands of friends, relatives or even total strangers instead of being responsible for our own lives. Whenever we encounter crises, we want to go around consulting friends, relatives, and strangers and take their advice.These are just people who probably know bits and pieces of our lives, not the full story. When you get advice from all and sundry, you get really confused about what to use and wind up in a worse situation than before you went shopping for the advice. And these people won’t be there when we have to live with the consequences of the decisions they helped us make. They have their own lives to live, you know, their own problems to solve. I’ve seen it happen in car parks at shopping malls. A clueless car guard who wants a coin or two from you stands behind your car as you are reversing and starts to direct you with hand signals going, “Woza boss, woza boss! Wooooza boss!”  You innocently trust the car guard knows what he’s doing until WHAM!! A car comes from nowhere and hits you. You get out to assess the damage and ask the guard how he let that happen, but he’s disappeared into thin air and you’re left to pick up the pieces.

I have nothing against sharing our problems, sometimes, so that we don’t suffer in silence. There, however, has to be a limit to how much we are prepared to share and who we share that with. We need to wisely pick the people to talk to about matters that are really private. I’ve had my moments when I felt I had over-shared and started stewing in my own juices thinking, “Good Lord, why did I divulge all those details?” Sometimes you tell someone something personal and discover after that conversation that you’re in a deeper hole than you were in before the conversation. I did it once when I had a problem that I thought was really insurmountable. I called my friend and told her about it. She said, “From the look of it, your problem is most likely going to get worse so you must just pray. Sorry hako! (Pity you!) As for me, well, my life is a fairytale. I just don’t go around saying it because people will hate me for it”. Sharing that problem reaped no rewards.

These days the fashionable thing is to run to faith healers who congregants call “powerful men of God”, “Papa”, and other titles of endearment.  

On numerous occasions we hear stories of people who were fleeced off by prophets who they had entrusted to pray for them. Countless women, around Africa especially, have been raped and/or impregnated by these “powerful men of God”, men have lost their wives to these shepherds that prey on their flock. Why we insist on calling another person man/woman of God is beyond me. We are all people of God, created in his image. I acknowledge that there are people who are gifted at saying powerful prayers, but that doesn’t mean we should bestow all our faith in those people to a point where they become deities. There’s only one God for me to worship. The rest are mere mortals who have their own sins to repent for. The bible says, “For all have sinned and come short of his glory”. Christianity has never been as confusing as it is in this era. Anyone who just fails to find a job will study the bible from front to back, back to front, run and form a church. Before you can say “Hallelujah” they are Pastor or Reverend so and so, even though there is nothing to revere about their conduct.

I’m not anything near what people call a “Prayer Warrior”, I totter in my faith a lot, but I am aware that I need to have constant personal connection with God. Things happen in life that make you sit down and reflect, and realise that regardless of how much wisdom you think you have, how revered you are in the community or how many resources you have at your disposal, without God you’re nothing. You need to say your prayers from the heart, not through an intermediary. It’s not like being a company executive where you can assign your PA to send flowers to one client, thank you notes to the other, and a bottle of champagne to the next. To those clients, everything will be acknowledged as having come from you. But prayer is a different ball game altogether. God will know that you are sending other people to pray for you while you’re not doing anything for yourself. If your prophet prays for you, God will know it’s not you and that you’re sending messengers even though he said, “Come let’s reason together,” in Isaiah 1:18. I know people who haven’t knelt a day in their lives to pray but are quick to run to prophets at the first sign of turmoil to get prayed for. I’m all for people praying for each other, the bible supports that too. But expecting some of these weird pastors, or anyone, to intercede for us while we lordly sit by expecting some miracle to happen is wrong on so many levels. It’s a display of arrogance.

We need to take time to study the bible, think about our lives and pray for God’s guidance in everything that we do. We shouldn’t just jump to ask our friends for solutions before even giving ourselves time to reflect on our problems and coming up with our own solutions.

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Robbing people in the name of Jesus