As a complement to my Justice Series it seems only fitting to have Judicial stories told from the perspective of those who have had to sit in the "Hot Seat" and face the Watchtower Tribunal of the Three Stooges ... Many, maybe most, Elders have never had to face a Judicial Committee. Were this to have been the case, maybe we would not have the horror stories, but rather more tempered justice among JWs.
Before I was an Elder, I too faced the Trinity of Elders ... and sat in the infamous "Hot Seat" ... for what? Just what could I have done that would have led to being judged in such a manner ... and potentially leading to my being disfellowshipped for conduct unbecoming a Jehovah's Witnss? Read on and see ... how did the Elders learn of this so that I would be called to account?
Guilt ... I was horrified ... my full fledged loyalist true-blue JW sensibilities would not allow me to stay quiet or forgive myself ... at least not without the blessing of God's organization to assure that I could make a recovery from this evil that had encroached on my spirit ... I turned myself in ... within hours of the ACT, I reported the matter to the Elders ... as a result, I was invited to have a seat in the "Hot Seat" ... yes, the little nicey-nice goody-two-shoes MS, Anointed Jim was in trouble with the Watchtower LAW.
I never sweat so much in all my life. I was at the Kingdom Hall with just one Elder. I paced and walked in circles. We engaged in small talk ... it was a nice distraction but not at all comforting. I tried my best to read the face of the Elder to see if I was going to be DF'd of serously reproved ... but no luck ... he had a poker face that would have served well in American politics ... then before long Elder number two and then three showed up ... with little sickening sweet smiling faces ...
"Brother Jim, would you like to step into the library with us?" ... No, I thought to myself. This was the request of death ... the invitation to dive head first into a vat of my own vomit ... I did NOT want to step into the library. Okay, here goes nothing ... my feet cross the threshold into the Dead Zone ... into the land of no return.
"How are you doing tonight Brother Jim?" One voice gushed out a rather routine sounding insincere greeting ... yet these were my friends ... they helped me become a JW in various way ... they gave me talks and ate at my home ... they laughed with me at movies and we shared stories of our lives ... and exchanged some of our deepest feelings about life ... and now ... my friends became my judges ...
I take my place in the "Hot Seat." The library had the same style theater seating as the main hall ... so in this case the Elders sat in the cold hard metal folding chairs to face me as I snuggled into the soft cushy seat in the front row ... after I sat ... I wanted to pee. So I faked a sneeze and the need to blow my nose ... one Elder held out a cloth hanky, but I refused ... on principle ... and got right back up and went to the bathroom ... but, while a convenient delay, there was no escape ... before long, I found my way back to the "Hot Seat."
Elder V, as the Chairman, opened with prayer. It was the standard JW formula prayer with exaltation for God's Organization ... and a few crumbs of hope for me that I will be helped through the loving provision of the Faithful Slave and its Elders to deal with my "situation" and be fully restored to Jehovah's service in his Organization ... somehow folks ... that prayer never really comforted me. I wonder why?
"Tell us Brother Jim, why are we here tonight?" I don't know, why are we here ... we are here because I did something against the rules and I have to report it ... so just get on with it and execute my punishment ... no, not that fast ... I must first be required the tell the full gruesome sordid story ... and then allow the Elders to mull it over and then decide on a whim whether they want to extend a morsel of mercy to me.
Fortunately, unlike other unpleasant JW activities, we likely only have to face one or maybe two Judicial Committees (JC's) in our lives. A good percentage of JWs never have to face a JC. Once it happens, the event is scribed in our memories like graffiti on our living room wall in permanent black markers ... and the Elders can always point to it in the future if so moved ...
"Well, Brothers, I don't know what came over me ... but I did something that I wished I had not done." Yes, a common, but somber opening line for any who have to face the music. "I am just so ashamed" ... actually, I am not sure if I was ashamed, or just fretful of being in trouble with the congregation ... either way, by turning myself in, I knew deep down that I has a shot of not being DF'd ... or so I let myself believe ...
"Tell us, what is it that troubles you so much?" ... A seemingly sincere plea to console me so as to help me deal with the serious sin ... a plea for trust ... we are your friends, your brothers ... certainly you can tell us ... this is the resounding theme that rings through to any broken-hearted JW ... and you cannot help but grasp at this glimmer of hope that somehow love will prevail and bring a silver lining to your gloomy state ...
"Well, brothers ... it is so embarrassing ... but here goes nothing" ... As an Elder who later sat on JC's, I can't count the number of times I heard phrases like this ... and I always hearkened back to the time when I said such a thing myself ... " ... here is what I did" ...
"I smoked! I am guilty of Smoking." Smoking had just been officially banned by the Society in the Watchtower during the Summer-Fall of 1974. Smokers were not used in privileged positions ... but were not DF'd. The change in policy resulted in a 6 month grace period to allow JW smokers to stop the habit. After that time, the Elders would be taking DF'd action against smokers. I loved smoking ... I still do ... especially fine cigars and pipes. I grew up in a smokers home ... both parents and other relatives smoked, as it was the things to do in the 1950s ... a learned habit from World War II I guess ... you know, men in foxholes ... and nervous lonely women waiting for their men in foxholes to come home.
I never smoked much ... never more than 5 to 7 cigarettes a day. BUT ... what I did smoke, I enjoyed every puff, ever draw into the lungs ... and every glorious exhale ... smoking was my one big vice. I gave it up to be a JW ... but it was not a requirement at the time. So, shortly after I became an MS, I broke down one day when I found a half smoked cigarette butt in my father-in-law's ash tray ... the aroma was too much ... the temptation too great ... sooooo ... ... instead of smoking his butt, I found his pack of Marlboros and stole one from him ... I drove to a private place in a local park ... and I smoked the cigarette about half way down.
"We appreciate your candor and honesty Brother Jim" ... these words somehow made me feel that they understood how difficult it was being in the "Hot Seat" ... that somehow they too may have sat here in the past ... that somehow they would be merciful to me and not hold this transgression over my head with too much weight ... I studied their eyes to see if the normal connections I had with them were still alive ... I was looking for some kind of assurance ... but their poker faces did not betray their thoughts ...
"Would you step outside into the main hall while we talk for a few minutes" ... Sure, a few minutes of confidential talk while I am not here to defend myself ... okay ... I will go along with that ... I have no real choice anyway. Somehow they forgot to call me brother ... they seemed so dry and emotionless all of a sudden. ... I stepped out into the hall, got a drink of water ... then had to pee again. I took a seat in front of the hell to be sure that I could not hear what they were saying ... somehow this act of ethics seemed help reassure myself that I was still a good person ... I wanted to prove myself to Jehovah that I was not a bad guy ...
Time seemed to sand still ... what could they be talking about ... what is taking so long ... while contradictory, these are the pondering of nervous nellies waiting for the outcome of judgment ... it is worse than waiting for the results of a job interview ... it is more like waiting to be terminated ... the clock runs with a slight tic as the second hand seems to beat with every pulse in the heart ...
"Mister Whitney, could you join us again in the Library?" ... Mr. Whitney? Oh Gawd no! They are going to DF me! Oh crap. Oh God no ... no, no, no ... I sit in the "Hot Seat" once again ... with sweat dripping down the back of my head onto my collar ... "We talked at length and appreciate your patience ... we see no need for any action at this time ... but we exhort you to
... What! No action? Wait a minute, what is wrong with this picture? Yes, they exhorted me to read a couple of Watchtower articles published about smoking and how it can be dangerous ... but they felt that since I just smoked a half cigarette and that the policy was still new, that a little mercy would be better ... I was not only spared from being DF'd, I was allowed to remain an MS because my act was not known in the eye of the public ... but, I was told that in the future if this happens again, I would be dealt with more severely ... somehow, all the warnings and counsel blurred together and all I felt and heard was that I still had my friends ... I was still accepted ... I was still in the "Truth" ... Jehovah did not hate my guts after all.
Later on ... I learned that the JC Chairman was himself a secret smoker ... how did I learn that? Because he came in to sit in the "Hot Seat" before me as Chairman of his own Judicial Committee ... and now the tables were turned ten years later ... now I was his judge ... you can read about it in my Justice Series ... so, was the mercy shown to me a result of perhaps a set of kinder men who were not sticklers for the Watchtower Law? Or, was I the unwitting beneficiary of a guilty man who could not judge me of the crime he too was committing? Whatever the case, when I became his judge for the same crime, things became really interesting ...
How long will this series be? Well, this is it unless some of you want to tell your stories. If you want to tell, but do not want y our story associated with your screen name ... e-mail me with it, and I can sanitize it for you and post it in an anonymous style ...
In any event, I was a lucky (fortunate) JW ... I did not face the wrath of being judged unrepentant ... and the sin was still submersed in progressive growing light. So the discipline was not yet fixed in the minds of my judges. But, many JWs have been dealt with most harshly, having their lives ruined by DFing ... all for some religious rules invented by hard-hearted men who rule from an ivory tower in New York ... men who have never had to live real lives. Were the Governing Body to ever have to face a JC, perhaps it would mellow them out ... I know it had its affect on me and ultimately made my own tenure as an Elder one of not being too quick to judge.
Still, I wish I had never had anything to do with the whole mess ... and I am more happy than ever to NOT sit in judgment of anyone anymore. - Jim W.
PS: One Elder and good friend on the JC later told me that he was just kidding about calling me "Mister Whitney" ... but felt I needed to be ribbed a little ... that I took myself too seriously and needed to lighten up ... while I understood the humor, coming from him especially ... yet, he really had no idea how painful that is when you think you might get cut off from all your friends and family.