Spiritual Autobiography 7

It happened on a Tuesday, 30 August, 1971. I had completely forgotten they were coming. It was overcast and a bit nippy that day and one could tell that summer was reaching an early conclusion. I hitch-hiked into Vancouver and arrived in the Shepherd's Call at around 10 am. The place felt different. The place was different. I didn't like it. The Spirit had departed and it was all chaos, emptiness and rage. The Children of God had just arrived the night before from California, and already they had taken over the entire operations of the Vancouver Jesus People Army. They were yelling and shouting Biblical slogans, condemning as satanic the "system" and demanding that I leave home immediately, live with them, take on a biblical name, and marry one of the "sisters" (I was fifteen and queer. Not going to happen. Even at my tender age I also had an uncommon gift of common sense!). I stuck around for three days, visiting from Richmond, talking to them, remonstrating with them, imploring them to come to their senses. They had all been taken captive, brainwashed, incapable of thought. They had become slaves to the hateful and one-dimensional thinking of a dangerous cult. Close friends suddenly turned on me as the enemy. I had to get out. On the third day, I was of course, tormented and puzzled, but knew that it was over and already accepting my loss. I talked with a friend, a man in his mid-twenties visiting from the Fraser Valley, who also saw what was going on. We supported each other. So, died the Jesus' People, the cradle of my Christian faith. I felt like an orphan. But God was still present. I knew this and would always know this. That experience of losing my friends, as grievous as it was, strengthened my faith at a very early age, and I knew that from then on I would be walking with God, independent of human means, influence and often even support. I had a genuine relationship with God, and so I would walk with my Lord for the rest of my life. I was recommended St. Margaret's, a charismatic Reformed-Episcopal church near the PNE in East Vancouver. I had met people from there visiting the Shepherd's call. I liked them and the very good things I had heard of their church. The next Sunday evening I visited St. Margaret's for the first time. I liked what I saw, and came to flourish there for a while.