The really scrappy days of Jehovah’s Witnesses versus mainstream denominations was forged in the time of the World Wars. Then, the clergy ardently followed the flag on both sides during both wars, afterwards presuming to slip once again into that comfortable chair of spokesman for the Prince of Peace. Witnesses called them on it. After all, if you are not going to stand up for peace in time of war, just when do you stand up for it?
“It was long ago. The burning heat has quelled. Religion is too busy licking its wounds to mess much with the Witnesses and the Witnesses in turn no longer provoke them. I regret how I once answered a fellow at the door who sneered at my introduction with, “No thanks. I’m Christian!” The unmistakable implication was that I was not. In faux befuddlement, I replied that only a Christian would do what I was doing, and that “frankly, I’m a little surprised that you’re not doing it yourself.” Fade smug smile—a beautiful sight. But I regret it and would not do it today. It made an enemy. True, he already was one but why cement it in place? Why feed the next Witness who visits him to the sharks? And it didn’t have to be. It could have been modified so easily had I only thought of it. That second line could have been an observation that he, too, has a ministry. We may not go about it in the same way but we both go about it. If it turns out that he doesn’t—that he just sits on his rear end—why rub his nose in it? What purpose does it serve? You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
“Another house to call on was the rectory of a church. When it came up, Sister Hardliner wanted to accompany me, but I declined. “You’ll get into a fight,” I said. Instantly, I was struck with remorse, for her feelings were hurt. But it would have turned out that way. She is from the 60s generation. She would have heard out the man patiently, then interjected. “Okay, now let’s see what the Bible has to say,” as though taking for granted that he knew nothing of the book.
“At another door, an evangelical determined to fight—and if it is not they, it is us—launched into his spiel on what was wrong with Jehovah’s Witnesses. I said, “Look, why don’t we just agree that you think we’re doing it all wrong and we think you’re doing it all wrong? You’d steal our sheep in a heartbeat if you could and we’d do the same to you. Got it. We do it differently. But the point is, we’re both doing it, and we live in a world where more and more people are not.” Instantly, an antagonist became a confidant. We went on to discuss mutual challenges to those who would live by faith.
“The thaw is slow to develop. It doesn’t catch on everywhere. It doesn’t mean that Witnesses have grown chummy. The differences remain and will have to be ironed out at some point, but why lead with them? Some still prefer the old days of squabbling. Some even feel it their duty to lambaste “Babylon the Great.” But why kick the old lady when she is down? Witnesses kicked her when she was up! These days, everyone kicks her. All Witnesses ever wanted was to level the playing field, a goal that was realized decades ago.
“However, in a developing land, the clergy appears to be up to its old tricks. My missionary friends tell of visiting a few remote families of their congregation so as to keep them in the loop. Their visits are a sensation; they end up playing sports with the children. All the area children join in and a group Bible study follows. Word soon gets around that the village church pastor is upset and has ruled that any child of his parishioners, by far the majority, who join in can neither attend community services nor receive presents during the holidays.
“It is so mean,” my friend says. “They’re ten-year-olds!” fatherless for the most part, their dads killed off in war or genocide. Some are orphans.”
(from: ‘A Workman’s Theodicy: Why Bad Things Happen’—except for the first paragraph, which serves as introduction here.)
****** The bookstore
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