The Allure of the Chosen Few
Forty years ago, a spiritual quest led me down a path far more winding than I could have imagined. Like many, I sought answers, a deeper connection, a sense of purpose. This search led me to the Worldwide Church of God (WCG), a denomination with headquarters in the United States. At the time, I was also reading literature from the Jehovah’s Witnesses, offered by someone I knew, adding another layer of complexity to my spiritual exploration.
The WCG presented a compelling narrative. Baptised members, we were told, were counted among the 144,000 described in the Book of Revelation – a select group destined for a special place in God’s plan. This concept, combined with a steadfast adherence to Old Testament practices, formed the bedrock of their faith. Christmas, Easter, birthdays, and New Year’s celebrations were deemed unscriptural, even pagan. We observed the Sabbath and the Jewish festivals, believing we were following the example of Jesus. Each year, we re-enacted the Passover meal with a foot-washing ceremony, as Jesus shared with his disciples.
Church services became a detailed deconstruction of other Christian denominations: Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Christian Scientists, Catholics, Anglicans, Baptists, and Pentecostals. We learned of their perceived scriptural and historical flaws, reinforcing the idea that the WCG held the one true path to salvation. This carefully curated narrative created a sense of exclusivity, a feeling of belonging to an elite group in possession of unique and vital knowledge.
However, this seemingly solid foundation was built on an iron-fisted rule. Critical thinking was discouraged. Questioning church doctrine, or acknowledging inconsistencies within scripture, was a cardinal sin. Those who dared to stray were swiftly labelled dissidents, and instantly ostracised, cut off from all ties with the church and its members.
After eight years of dedicated adherence, I left the church. This departure was not a mere change of faith; it was a profound rupture. I lost all the friends I had made within the community. The emotional fallout was immense. However, this experience also propelled me into a new journey of learning. I stumbled upon literature on abusive religious movements, books like “Combatting Mind Control” and “The Subtle Power of Spiritual Abuse”, which began to unravel the complexities of the situation. I learned about the fascinating – and alarming – paradox that allows members of fundamentalist groups to identify cult-like behaviours in other faiths, while remaining oblivious to the very same patterns within their own.
For years, I offered free support to ex-cult members worldwide. Through these interactions, I gained a wealth of understanding about the dynamics of both established and emerging religious movements and the dangers of handing over one’s critical reasoning abilities to others, regardless of the apparent piety or well-meaning intentions of those in leadership. This experience also highlighted the myriad interpretations of the 144,000. It became clear that not all groups claiming to be this special group could be, considering the sheer number of people involved. The math simply didn’t add up.
My journey has taught me that spiritual growth requires engagement, not blind acceptance. It requires questioning, exploring, and most importantly, exercising common sense. It is crucial to remember that faith and reason are not mutually exclusive, but rather complementary forces that can guide us toward a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.
Instead of seeking solace in the promise of exclusivity, let us embrace the diversity of perspectives, think independently, and cultivate an open mind, constantly seeking to learn and grow. After all, the truest path to understanding begins not with the certainty of a chosen few, but with the shared journey of those who are willing to question, explore and engage.


