This was posted on the old H2O board and I mentioned part of it in another thread. Had Enough asked me to post the whole thing here too. I hope you find it enjoyable. It is lengthy, but covers a lot of ground.
Plus I should warn you of one thing. As I was writing to a body of elders and I was DFed, I knew full well that it would be entirely ignored unless it was something different. It would have to be something that crawled right in their brains and freaked them out, a head-game par excellent. This explains the last one third of it. It worked too.
Below, with only a few minor changes, is the way I posted it on H2O.
SPANKING A BODY OF ELDERS
This letter was actually sent toward the end of June, 1996. Yes, it took about 6 months to write it, as I was working 70 to 80 hours a week as a long haul truck driver. It was written primarily to my daughter’s (and our former) congregation in Alaska, with copies going to the parties named at the end of the letter.
All the names have been changed or blanked out except for P. G. Ronco, the Branch Overseer, whom I know personally. This is due to the fact that all parties involved have done well in living up to the conditions I required of them. To further embarrass them would be unfair. This means that if anyone manages to figure out who they are and mess with them, they will answer to me. (05-16-02. Note: There have been additional developments that may change this.)
It also means that all the Society needs to do to find out exactly who and where I am is to make one phone call to P. G. Ronco and ask who wrote this letter. That is precisely what I want. When I declare war on someone, I do it openly and head on.
The situation revolved around my oldest daughter, who married an elder’s son, only to be grotesquely abused by him. I won’t go into more detail here, as it is covered rather thoroughly in the first half of the letter. Towards the last (and this is fair warning) you’d best have a shovel and a pair of hip boots handy. If it doesn’t get a few smiles out of you, then you’re pretty far gone.
Enjoy.
LoneWolf
December 30, 1995
To Whom It May Concern:
During the years we lived in Alaska, there were many times we passed through Spenard on our way to and from Anchorage International. There was a corner we had to pass where the skeleton of a large building stood. Someone had started to build it years before, then for reasons unknown, stopped and never finished.
Many years that steel skeleton stood there, looming a hundred or more feet into the air and silhouetted against the sky. It was a silent and ugly monument to shattered dreams, failure, and despair. No matter how many times I passed, or how good a mood I might possess, the sight of it would throw a gloomy shadow over me.
Sometimes things in life can be like that. They can be started with the best of intentions, but become symbols of failure and a permanent source of discouragement, simply because they are not finished.
Strangely enough, this can apply to disagreements or even at times, strife, especially if it is between honorable men. A good example of this would be in the book of Job where, after Job and his three “friends” ceased speaking, Elihu’s anger blazed and he chewed them all out in spite of, as he put it, “Young I am in days and you men are aged. That is why I drew back and was afraid to declare my knowledge to you men.” (Job 32:6) A lot of good was accomplished by his speaking out, even though it could not have been pleasant for the ones to whom he spoke.
But what would have happened if, after starting, that his courage gave out and he stopped speaking before the reason for his anger became manifest? Or what if those four older men, offended at the temerity of this young squirt, got up and left? No benefit would have been realized from that disagreement. The only thing left would have been hostility, distrust, and division.
You have a man there in ***** whom I knew for many years, one ***** *****. It seemed that we rarely agreed on much of anything and many were the times we would argue some point or position, even heatedly.
But there was something wonderful about those arguments, for though there was heat there, there was never any doubt in either of us as to the other’s heart-condition. That heat didn’t come from pride as to whom was right or wrong or who would win. It stemmed from anxiety over the accuracy of our understanding and worry over our ability to express it clearly. The result was that we both learned a great deal. The knowledge was the treasure for which we both yearned, and was the only thing that counted. Could we have done that if either pride or fear was in our heart? No.
I miss him and our arguments. Prov. 27:17
Over two years have passed since I declared war on the Smiths (I’m changing the names here), then suddenly backed off due to Billy’s accident.
But there were issues there of serious concern that were never broached, let alone considered, and that need to be for there ever to be a foundation for peace between us. I feel I would be remiss to let them go unconsidered. That is the purpose of this letter.
Then there is another point that haunts me and spurs me to speak out now. It is the principle found at Ezekiel 3:20, 21.
I have never met Tony Smith (the elder) that I can remember, and have spoken to him on the phone only a few times. I have, however, met three of his sons. I was not impressed.
Many of our Alaskan acquaintances have passed this way over the years and in their comments and demeanor a further impression was gradually formed. Some perhaps said more than they should have, commenting briefly and sometimes laughingly as to the Smith’s attitude toward women. Others made reference to the miserable existence Mary (the mother of the family) was forced to lead.
I learned the most, though, from the more mature ones that came through, though they said not a word. It was sufficient simply to watch when someone mentioned the Smith name, that these individuals grew silent and their lips settled into a grim line.
Other tidbits came my way. It appeared that for the family whose daughter married into the Smiths, the consequences could be disastrous, for through grand displays of superiority and a showy display of their means of life, the Smiths would overshadow and discredit the husbandly heads in the eyes of their own families, and their positions were usurped by the Smiths.
***** ***** was a friend of mine. He was not rich, and felt no need to put on airs. I knew him to be a quiet man, gentle and unassuming, one who loved his family dearly. I was led to understand that (his daughter’s) marriage into the Smith family caused him immense distress and he grew to hate Tony Smith. I wonder how much this additional and unnecessary stress contributed to his early demise?
Time passed and my daughter Sally married Billy. Even before the marriage I could see the evidence of that insidious influence. This young woman who had been one of the finest daughters any man could ask for, hard-working and conscientious, and enjoying a level of prestige among her younger siblings comparable to that of a third parent, became disdainful and dismissive, waving away whatever I might say or do with little or no examination as to its merit.
At first I let this pass, as she was over the age of 21 and on her own. I knew she needed to make her own mistakes and would find out the error of her ways soon enough. Then I found out that she was using her enhanced position in this family to undermine me. It got so bad that I could see the fear on the younger ones’ faces to trust anything I had to say, no matter how innocuous it may be. This, in a family whose close-knit unity and communication had few parallels.
Gradually I came to the heart-rending conclusion that if I were to keep my family, I would have to take action against this girl I gave life to and loved. So I did. I removed her from her position of first-born in exactly the same manner as Jacob removed Reuben. Never have I known such anguish of mind and heart as I had when I was forced to make that proclamation.
And it worked.
I had isolated that influence.
I kept quiet though for three reasons:
1. I blamed myself for not having better prepared her to see through the pomp, dignity, and superciliousness that others sometimes slather about.
2. As the scripture states: “Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a youth.” It takes time and experience for them to grow out of it.
3. I was not close enough to Alaska to know exactly what was going on. Then again, if something was going on up there that needed attention, we are taught to have patience and allow Jehovah to care for it in his due time.
Nevertheless, I grew to have an icy rage toward those who would wittingly or unwittingly deceive this girl to such an extent that I would be forced to take action against her.
Time passed, and they had a child, my first grandchild. When he was only a few months old, the baby came down with a mild fever and Sally took him to the doctor. When the doctor indicated he was going to obtain a urine sample by plunging a hypodermic needle through the abdominal wall into the bladder of her infant, Sally had a fit, grabbed the baby, and took him home.
The next morning they were awakened by a swat team surrounding the house. The baby was forcibly taken from them, and it took a long time to get him back.
When I found out about this situation, I called Tony, figuring that we could coordinate our efforts to help. To my astonishment he wanted nothing to do with it. Perhaps he had reasons I am not aware of, I don’t know. But I couldn’t – and can’t – fathom a man who won’t raise a finger when his offspring are threatened by the wolves.
But I didn’t say anything and time passed. They moved to North Carolina and had another child, a girl. Billy’s conduct toward his family gradually became terrible, even grotesque. They moved to Kentucky, where his conduct seemed to improve. Eventually they elected to move back to Alaska.
They decided to come through Oregon to visit us. There was a problem though. I was disfellowshipped for something I didn’t do. That meant, according to doctrine, that they couldn’t associate with me. Knowing that and desiring the visit to be a relaxed and joyful one, I made arrangements to stay elsewhere.
But apparently Billy assumed I was down and out or weakened due to my being disfellowshipped. Only damn fools and beginners will ever make that mistake. In any event he decided to take advantage of the situation to extend the Smith influence over my family.
The next thing I knew, my wife and another daughter, *****, came running in the place I was staying, crying, and throwing their arms around me due to his imperious conduct, arrogant denunciations, and contemptuous attitude toward me.
I was stunned that anyone would have the utter gall to take such grotesque advantage of my hospitality, good will, and self-sacrifice. I figured it was time to do something.
Stomping into my own house and deliberately slamming the door behind me I bellowed: “Billy Smith – get your butt down here!” Then I proceeded to inform him of my opinion of him and his conduct, of any batch of so-called men who try to prove their manhood by beating up or mistreating women, and that he was to get his butt out of there. As a parting shot I left a standing invitation to all Smith women that if they ever got tired of such treatment, they could find a refuge here and that he had better not be treating my daughter badly any more.
He shot back that she was his wife, and that he would treat her any way he felt like it. Then he ducked out of the door.
That did it. That meant war.
Nearly everyone has an Achilles heel. I knew that the place to hit the Smith’s would be square in the middle of their pride and dignity, if I wanted results. So I did.
After a couple of days, I got on the telephone and called the ***** branch of the Alaskan State Troopers and the women’s shelter there, informing them of the situation. I told them that I guaranteed whatever happened to my daughter would also happen to the Smiths.
I was amused at the reactions. The lady at the trooper’s office said sharply, “Sir!! I must tell you that this call is being recorded!”
I shot back: “Good! I want it recorded. And to make it even more sporting, I’ll call you when I’m on my way up.”
But the best reaction was from the lady in the women’s shelter. After declaring my intentions she returned with a decided note of satisfaction in her voice: “Good! And once you’re done with them, I’ve got a whole list more for you to take care of!” I couldn’t help cracking up.
Then I called the branch office in Anchorage and finally, the elders in the ***** (Alaska) congregation.
To all parties I emphasized two points that were non-negotiable:
1. That Sally would be allowed complete freedom to communicate at will with her family, and
2. That she would be able to visit her family (as finances allowed) and receive them as visitors. (It appears these two conditions gave been met, which I appreciate.)
Apparently the accident happened less than 24 hours later. They hit a moose near Fort St. John. It crashed down over the driver’s compartment where Billy was and broke his neck, nearly killing him. He is now in a wheel chair, a quadriplegic like Christopher Reeve.
I was mad at him, yes. But not that mad. (05-16-02. Note: I am now.)
Ordinarily I would let it rest now, but in this instance I don’t feel it is settled. Billy’s conduct, while perhaps worse than the average, was not unique in that family. Billy may be out of commission but there’s nothing to prevent the others from taking up where he left off.
When Billy’s family arrived at the hospital in Edmonton, Alberta (where Billy had been taken) his father, Tony, told Sally of my declaration of war.
A short time later, Sally called me, worried and indignant, wanting to know what I was up to. “I’m a big girl now and can take care of myself!” she lectured me. Then less than a minute later wailed, “Now I’ll never get to talk to my mother or sisters again, nor visit either!”
Awwl-right. Reminds me of the time she was fourteen. Occasionally I’d run around the house in nothing but my shorts. It occurred to me one day that she might find it offensive now that she was getting to be a young lady. So I asked her.
Drawing herself up all stiff and straight, with all the horrified indignation that only a young teenage girl can affect, she shot back haughtily, “You don’t think things like that affect me, do you??”
“Ahhh, okay, just checking.” It took a heroic effort to keep a grin off my face. I was shaking with laughter on the inside.
We changed the subject and she started telling me about school and how it was fun for the girls to walk down past the boy’s gym. It seems the doors would be open and they could look in and see the boys exercising or playing games, “and they have muscles!” she concluded with shining eyes. Suddenly realizing her contradiction and clapping both hands over her mouth, she turned brick red.
Folks, I’m only human. I split a gut.
Reckon she hasn’t changed much.
Now Sally probably thinks I’m the father from hell, and Billy is absolutely convinced of it. And yes, she is a big girl now, in her 30’s, with two kids, and married into another family. But I’ve got news for you.
I don’t care if she is three, or thirty, or three hundred. She is my daughter. Being such, she is my ambassador to the Smiths. She will be treated decently, or they will answer to me.
And I don’t give the foggiest damn who don’t like it.
But I have a confession to make. When I made those two demands of the Smiths, I meant it. But there was an ulterior motive there too, for I wanted to set them up for a strategy I desired to try. In essence, I wanted to use them as guinea pigs. Now that it appears those demands are being met, I find myself with a strange mixture of gladness that Sally’s situation is better, and disappointment that I can’t experiment on them. Here was my idea.
As you may know, there have been many changes in marital law in the past few decades. Issues such as marital rape and spouse abuse have become prominent. Major organizations have formed to combat these, and in many areas laws have been passed that make it matter little whether the woman wishes to press charges or not. The state does.
But it seems to me that most of these changes have one major drawback; action is taken only after damage has been done. Little has been done to combat the root cause of such actions, i.e., domination. This situation with the Smiths appeared ideal for taking a step in that direction. Consider:
To hold a woman incommunicado in her own home by refusing to allow her to call and/or visit her friends and family or even attend meetings of her faith, as Billy tried to do to Sally back in North Carolina, has all the ingredients of imprisonment. That holds especially true in this day and age of overcrowded prisons and “home detention” wherein a special electronic “bracelet” is strapped around the offender’s ankle to ensure he stays put. If that is legally classified as incarceration, and it is, then how much more so should the case of these women when held incommunicado?
What I wished to do, should the Smiths violate those demands, was to file formal criminal charges of false imprisonment against not just Billy, but against all the adult members of that family for being accessories after the fact.
Next, I would contact the news media and women’s groups and begin to orchestrate a campaign of publicity and pressure against the D. A. to ensure the charges are neither dismissed nor treated lightly due to this new and innovative application of law.
In addition I would push for an addition to law that such mistreatment of a woman should be prosecuted by the state, making it unnecessary for the woman to press charges. This is only the beginning.
What many of you may not realize is that I am uniquely qualified to do the above. In my last year there in Alaska while involved in the dispute between Tesoro Alaskan and their jobbers, I gained considerable experience in organizing resistance groups and lobbying the legislature in Juneau. I (and many others) found my efforts surprisingly effective. I can assure you that those skills have only improved since that time.
Among my many faults, I suppose the two worst ones are a deep love of experimentation and a curiosity that can only be described as monumental. Yet fair play dictates that I hold my hand. I will, but it’s not easy.
So, now what? Well, let’s take Billy first.
I hope someone has pointed out to him that the measure of a man is not taken by how strong his legs are or how long his dingy is. Stephen Hawkings is a man who is wheelchair bound due to his body being ravaged by amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (Lou Gehrig’s disease). He is unable to communicate except by the use of a voice synthesizer or by pushing one letter at a time on a computer.
Yet this man has, by the sheer power of thought, transformed the world of science. Astronomy and particle physics are only two of the disciplines affected.
I have learned that there are few things in this world more powerful, or productive, or soul-satisfying than a good frolic in the cerebral playground.
Here, let me give you an idea of what I mean; and these are only things that I am involved with and haven’t got time to get to: There are thousands of others.
(Here I mention some of the research opportunities in the honeybee and yellow jacket fields. Pure yellow jacket venom at that time was worth $185,000 an ounce.)
Let’s go to Tony now.
According to all conventional wisdom I guess I’m supposed to hate his guts. It will probably surprise most people that I don’t; I have a considerable amount of respect for him. Here is why.
As my father told me years ago, “What this organization needs is more spark-plugs.” That is what Tony has been in that area, a spark plug. He has had the courage and initiative to take the lead and get things done. Yes, he’s made mistakes, because if he didn’t he would be perfect and Jesus’ sacrifice would be unnecessary. We could sacrifice Tony instead.
Secondly, he hasn’t been a “third slave”. (See the Parable of the Talents, Matt. 25:14-30). He has had the courage and integrity to put himself on the line. Most people cravenly refuse to do or say anything until they first make sure they can pass the buck if it’s wrong. Tony doesn’t strike me that way.
Finally, his removal from his eldership was quite traumatic for him, yet he didn’t go off the deep end. Plus, in spite of his family problems, most of his children are in the faith. Both of these point to a good heart condition.
My experience has been that men like Tony Smith can be some of the best friends a man can have. The secret to gaining it is that one has to belt them over the head with something to get their attention first.
Sounds like I insult him here, don’t it? Not necessarily. One man’s stubbornness can be another man’s steadfastness. Really, the difference between bull-headedness and endurance can be very fine at times. It is an honorable thing to have the courage of one’s convictions. Does not the scriptures encourage us to have foreheads of flint when it comes to the doing of right? (Ezekiel 3:9) To change at any little breeze that comes along could indicate one is wishy-washy.
My antipathy towards him at this time then is limited to two things:
1. My ambassador will be treated decently; and
2. I am the head of my family, placed there by Jehovah himself. Woe to that man or group of men who trespass upon it.
Now, if this man is half the man I think he is, I will be receiving an apology both for the disgraceful treatment my ambassador has received and the disrespect, even contempt that has been manifested toward my position of headship.
If he doesn’t . . . then it will be poetic justice, for the very thing he has used so successfully on others, his haughty, holier-than-thou silence, will brand him as a coward in the eyes of all who know him, friends, foes, and family alike.
Now, let’s go on to the rest of the elders in the congregation.
Tony was running amuck and making people miserable, so much so that the stink was discernable all the way down here. What were they doing about it, other than getting up front and giving pretty little speeches, looking pious, and generally making themselves about as useless as teats on a boar pig (and about equally decorative)? Nothing, that I can see.
Sure, they finally did something, but only after the stink got so great that they had no choice. And why did it take so long? Let me tell you what I think.
Like the third slave, their love for their own mangy hides was greater than their love for their brother, Tony; greater than their love for Jehovah and his policy of justice and fair play for the lowly one; greater than their love of the “little sheep”, the very ones Jehovah assigned them to protect.
Why, just look at what they did when they were finally forced to do something! They roped in two knuckleheads from outside to come in and chew on the congregation’s ears about gossip!!
Now, pray tell, just what were the congregation members to do? Tony was eating them alive on one hand. The ones they should properly look to for protection were doing nothing and pretending the problem didn’t exist on the other. Apparently the only “approved” thing for them to do would be to get down on their knees, kiss Tony’s feet and say, “Thank you, O kind master, for abusing me like that. It feels so good. Please do it more.”
So, while Tony was culpable, the main fault lies with the rest of the elders, for
A. They didn’t act as brothers, allowing Tony to run his merry way and fall into a pit.
B. They didn’t act as shepherds to protect the sheep from harm.
C. They didn’t act as Christians for they put the safety of their own hides ahead of both the welfare of others and the welfare of the congregation.
Why? Because they were scared. Is it any wonder that “cowards” are included at Rev. 21:8? I think it is time for someone to wake up and smell the flowers. They need a reality check.
Okay. That takes care of that. Now I have one more area of concern before I close.
The following I’m addressing to the members of H.O.G.W.A.S.H.; Honorable Officials for the Generation of Wild Asinine Suspicions and other Hooey. We’ve all met them I’m sure. Many times they are elders, but not always. Usually they can be distinguished by a superior air. It’s amazing how they always know more about what we are thinking than even we ourselves do. These folks have been dreaming up evil motives for me for a long, long time now.
Two things bother me about this.
1. It seems unfair to me that they should get all the fun of dreaming up the evil motive whenever I do, say, or write something. It is only fair I get to share in the fun.
2. Their efforts lately have been very poor, reflecting a lack of pride in their work. Really, (and I’m sorry to have to say this) their work has been so slip-shod and unimaginative that it is a disgrace to the entire H.O.G.W.A.S.H. organization and I strongly recommend something be done about it.
There have been a few half-decent ones, but not many. One young couple with the last name of Smith figured I sent my daughters around to visit other families in order to spy on them. Then there was the elder down here who was convinced I was plotting to bomb the Kingdom Hall.
Even these, though, leave a great deal of room for improvement. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a truly excellent evil motive thrown at me. I’m afraid it may be a dying art.
In view of this, then, I’d like to take this opportunity to do my part in correcting the situation. I wish to demonstrate the proper construction and application of an evil motive and not incidentally share a little in the fun myself.
Take this letter now. I’ve said some nasty things in here, but as everyone knows, I’m so wicked that even Satan himself comes to me for lessons. Therefore to find the evil motive behind these nasty things (even if necessary) would be mere child’s play and not worthy of our time.
However, also contained in this letter is not only a denial that I hate the Smiths, but actual compliments (albeit, backhanded ones) for both Tony and Billy. Now any member of H.O.G.W.A.S.H. worth his or her salt will immediately know there is an evil motive behind that. But what could it be?
I feel free to divulge it here, because I know you are honorable people and will not tip off the Smiths.
The truth is that I am trying to lull them into a false sense of security. As mentioned previously in this letter, I have been providing some rather unusual animal products for medicinal purposes for some time now. Also, if you’ve kept up with the news, you will know the market in the Far East is far greater in both variety and quantity than it is here. Bear gall bladders and various types of antlers are a couple of products that go for big bucks. Then there was the fellow caught smuggling more than 50 lbs. of dog penises a couple of months ago in Hong Kong.
At any rate, my reputation for quality and reliability has been growing. A few months ago I received a note from the Outer Mongolian ambassador asking me to meet with a trade delegation. I did, and was treated most courteously. I came away both gratified and enlightened, and holding an invitation to visit their capitol Ulaanbaatar, all expenses paid.
It seems that the active ingredient of a very powerful aphrodisiac there in Outer Mongolia is the powder of the adult male Smith. I had been recommended to them as reliable and they were hoping I could provide them with rather large quantities of it.
I, naturally, accepted.
They made the request that before going into full production, I send them a sample they could test for potency, purity, etc., which is certainly reasonable.
Now, the way I figure it, Billy would serve admirably in this capacity. The last I heard he weighs about 170 lbs., which means after a good enema I’d have about 120 lbs. of usable material left. Then after processing, (freeze-drying, grinding, quality testing, packaging, etc.) I reckon I’d end up with approximately 50 lbs. of pure Smith powder.
Now, given that the quality is up to snuff and that customs fail to catch my smugglers, they promise me a price delivered of 240,000 tugriks per gram! If I could have delivered the shipment on June 21, l996, for instance, the exchange rate being 466.67 tugriks to $1.00, I would be paid $514.28 per gram, $233,274.41 per pound, or $11,663,720 for the entire shipment. Not bad for a couple day’s work, eh, what?
I could use some help here though. It will take a while to process the sample, ship it, and get the final approval. That is good, for it provides time for us to fatten up the rest before I come up to harvest them. My plan is to gain the cooperation of the Smith women in this matter in exchange for a share of the profits, of course.
Now, as to the regimen for fattening them up, I’ve been doing a considerable amount of research, even consulting with the staff of the agricultural department at Oregon State University. To achieve the greatest weight gain in the shortest possible time the following regimen should be followed:
A. A balanced diet of at least 8,000 calories a day, preferably more.
B. Supplemental vitamins and minerals amounting to at least fifteen times the minimum daily requirement.
C. One quart of Miracle-Gro plant food taken at every meal.
D. Pack their feet in manure every night before putting them to bed.
This, I am assured, will without fail produce large, high-quality Smiths suitable for harvest. They should be at least 6 ft. 5 in. tall and 250 lbs.
Now there, folks, is an evil motive truly worthy of the name. It’s a credit both to the one creating it and the one receiving it. Why, just check out these high points:
1. Every step of it is illegal, immoral, and some of it is even fattening.
2. Both the product and the means for getting it are gruesome if not downright macabre.
3. The amount of filthy lucre involved is astronomical.
4. The end product is used for sex, probably illicit.
5. It involves the exploitation of an endangered species.
Yes, this one has it all! But wait! There’s more . . .
I want especially for the more advanced student to pay close attention to these finer points, for they are the things that lend credibility. It’s like the maxim says: “The little things are the difference between excellence and the merely good.”
Now – note the careful transitions from one part of the plot to another, each piece dovetailing into the next so that the progression seems natural and logical.
Then observe how fact and fantasy blend so well into each other that it is difficult to distinguish where one stops and the other begins. Something that helps considerably in this matter is the inclusion of some facts that are so esoteric that it takes a considerable amount of research to verify them. For instance, the capitol of Mongolia and their unit of exchange, the tugrik, were found on the Internet, but it was necessary to go to the International Department of the Bank of America to get the exchange rate.
Again: The harder your victim has to work to verify some fact in your story, the more believability it lends to the whole thing. Remember that.
I would appreciate it very much then, if you members of H.O.G.W.A.S.H. would study this sample with a view toward the upgrading of the quality of your work. Remember what the scriptures say: “All that your hand finds to do, do with your very power . . .” (Eccl. 9:10) and “Whatever you are doing, work at it whole-souled as to Jehovah, . . .” (Col. 3:23)
I’m sure you can see the importance of this and wish to thank you in advance, as I feel certain of your enthusiastic cooperation.
(I now recount an amusing story about leading people on, but I won’t recount it now as this is long enough already. I continue . . .)
Dog-gone it now, that was fun! We’re gonna have to do this more often! Anyone wanna borrow my shovel? Arf, arf!
Let me leave you then with a word of caution. There will be those of you who will be outraged by my conducting of this matter in a semi-public manner.
Don’t be.
Think of it this way: One of the reasons Christendom has turned off so much of the world is the hoity-toity air of being holy and unblemished that they sometimes assume. People are not dumb. They know that everyone makes mistakes and has difficulties with others at times, no matter who they are. Look at the Apostle Paul and Barnabas. (Acts 15:37-40)
For us to assume that same air only accomplishes one thing. We prove to them that we are hypocrites.
Whether or not we have disagreements then is not as important as how they are handled. And it is precisely here in such times of difficulty that true Christians should distinguish themselves from the crowd.
Then again, how many of the Nation of Israel’s faults did Jehovah keep secret? Did he not inspire the Bible writers to put them all down so the whole world could know of them? Why?
Because if they are only hypocrites, he wants everyone to know, for then the sheep will not put faith in them.
Likewise if their main concern is the welfare of the sheep and not their own pride and dignity: if they demonstrate the attitude of Luke 17:10 in their lives, he wants the sheep to know that, too. He knows those sheep will be attracted to such practical ones and that they will be well cared for when they do respond.
It’s not without reason that Jehovah wants his people to be a “theatrical spectacle” to the world. (1 Cor. 4:9)
And now I am curious. Are there any men up there in that congregation? Or are there only boys? I reckon I’ll soon know.
‘Till then,
Here I signed my real name. There was a lengthy P. S. too, but as it was more of a personal nature and as this is already too long, I’m leaving it off too. Copies of this were distributed as follows:
***** Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses (“Sally’s” congregation in Alaska, and our former one.)
Alaska State Troopers, ***** Office
Valley Women’s Research Center
***** Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses (Our current congregation in Oregon.
P. G. Ronco, Alaska Branch Overseer. (Based in Anchorage.)
And Others.
For some reason or other, they have never hassled my family or me again. “Sally” and kids are doing well. “Billy” is still in a wheelchair and very respectful toward his elders. They own their own home and she is just finishing up a college course. (05-16-02. Note: There are major new developments here that I’ve been considering posting on this board. In short, “Billy” needs castrated.)
“Tony” never did send me an apology, which is fine. He can stew in his own juice.
Meanwhile here in this congregation in Oregon, my wife and kids are well accepted in the congregation. Some of my son’s best friends are elder’s sons. Sometimes he stays over night in their homes, and sometimes they stay over here.
LoneWolf