Part 1: http://www.jehovahs-witness.com/6/163998/1.ashx
Part 2: http://www.jehovahs-witness.com/6/164136/1.ashx
My Story: Part 3 – My JW “training”
The elder asked me again, “Do you want to be trained?” I reaffirmed my answer. Thus, my “training” as a young and upcoming future brother would begin that day. I worked with him on the ministry and went home to ponder over my future. Is this what I really wanted? Could I see myself as a baptized Jehovah’s Witness?
This elder was also studying with two other brothers close to my age in the congregation and had some measure of success with them. Perhaps there was hope for me after all.
Every Saturday morning, I would meet at this elder’s house for field service along with his other young recruits. Truth be told, this elder did a good job and invested a lot of time and effort in us – but he could also be a bully and put people down.
One of the things I was to later learn that with rank comes privilege. The elder would put everyone down in the congregation that he didn’t like. He was a very competitive person. Mention a name, this elder would find something bad to say about them. “He’s a waste of time” or “he’s not in the truth.”
We would go out in field service for a couple of hours and then have a study in the Live Forever book – or what I would call the Bore Forever book. Sometimes he would give us assignments such as preparing talks or research projects. They were fun times and for once I felt like I belonged to the congregation.
Meanwhile, I was in my last year of school preparing to take my exams. I had no plans for the future. There was college but my grades weren’t good enough. Our school schedule was such that we only came in for exams and studied for them at home, so I had very little interaction with my classmates in the final year. The bullying subsided a little.
It’s June 1992 and my last month at school is almost over. I finish my exams and we go in one last time to collect our “leaver’s certificate” – a tacky piece of card saying we “graduated.” This wasn’t our official transcript, just an acknowledgement that we’d officially left, but for me, it was my certificate of survival. The last day came and went and it was all over – all 11 years, most of them hell.
There was no party, no graduation and no celebration. My last day of school was like any other day. It felt good though and for a few moments I joined in the whooping and cheering with the other school leavers. It didn’t feel real until the following Monday when I woke up and realized I did not have to put on my school uniform.
My only source of income during that year was from a paper-round and I did this throughout the summer. The big question my parents wanted to know was what would I do? I applied for the old YTS (Youth Training Scheme) in Catering thinking maybe I could be a chef like my grandfather, but my mother persuaded me that it would mean long hours, split shifts, weekend shifts and low pay. She was right and in late August I enrolled in a three year engineering course as that’s what I was interested in.
The summer of that year was spent in field service every weekend, bible studies and theocratic assignments. I still had no friends and my life was a lonely one, but I would fill the time with video games and TV.
For the next two years my training continued, both at college and with this elder. My brother was also recruited into our study group, so now there were four of us being “trained” by this elder. We would learn a new feature of the ministry and then after a short break we would go out and practice what we learnt during door to door work. We did all kinds of witnessing – beach witnessing, street witnessing and informal witnessing. I was not entirely comfortable with walking up to complete strangers and giving them Panda tracts.
The congregation was simply horrible. There were various cliques, none of which I or my family belonged to. Our social life was non-existent as a family, although my brother had a close friend. On the rare occasion my father invited a family to our house for dinner, it would never be reciprocated. The elderly were ignored and rarely visited. There was backbiting, gossip and slander. The congregation's reputation had attracted the attention of both the Circuit and District Overseers and talks encourgaing the congregation to "widen out" fell on deaf ears.
Although I enjoyed my spiritual training, I did not really feel alive inside. I did not realize it until much later on that being a Jehovah’s Witness is all about following a set of rules and procedures rather than imitating the love of Christ.
Our assigned assembly hall was Haysbridge in Surrey. The drive up there was long. Sometimes we’d go by car, sometimes by coach. I always left the assembly with that sinking feeling that nothing would ever change in my hall and I would always be alone. I tried to pay attention to the program but it was boring. There was only one talk for young people and inevitably it was always some youth on the platform talking about how many books and magazines they placed with their teacher. I felt like a failure. Later that year, it was announced that I was an unbaptized publisher – whatever that meant I don’t know, but it made me feel good and pleased my parents.
By the summer of 1994 the elder who had been studying with us decided to end our training. There was no particular reason given. It may have been because none of us four brothers were baptized yet. He just stopped. We were about half-way through the Live Forever book. After that, my ministry just dropped off completely. That year was also when my family hosted the book study group.
Later that year, I accepted (under pressure) an apprenticeship to a local engineering firm and I would continue going to college one day a week. Because the course was full time, I would have to attend college for an additional two evenings a week so my schedule was full. I wish I had never accepted this apprenticeship and after six weeks I was miserable, but I stuck it out because my company was paying for my tuition.
My grandma died later that year – I had never lost anyone in death before. We would visit her a few times a year. She was actually disfellowshipped but it happened so long ago that nobody paid any attention. I regret now that I did not spend enough time getting to know her.
There would be many changes the following year including my decision to get baptized…