abandonment and loss of the person I loved most in the world burst out, and I could not control it. I desperately wanted to hold back the tears but couldn't.
This display of emotion satisfied Marianne that she had finally broken my pride and rebellious spirit. She pronounced my "sentence"; I would have to spend the next month in isolation, reading and writing reactions to Mo Letters on rebellion, yieldedness, submission and demon possession. I would have an adult "buddy" who would read with me—I was not allowed to talk to anyone else.
Changing my attitude would not be enough though. I was also asked to change my name. Celeste was too spacey (because it meant "heavenly" in Spanish). My head was too much in the clouds and I needed to choose a more down-to-earth name.
"You have a few days to think and pray about it, and then you can get back to me on what the Lord shows you," she said.
For three days I could drink only soup and water. The hunger pains were my only company as I was confined in a small room apart from everyone else. At the end of the three days, Marianne asked,
"Well, have you decided on your new name?"
I nodded. "Joan, after Joan of Arc. I want to be a fighter like her."
Marianne was pleased with this. "Jesus needs fighters in his Endtime army," she said. "Good. I'll let everyone know."
During my month of isolation my mind and feelings went numb, almost as if I went into shutdown mode. I remember this time as a blur, where one day blended into another. At the end of the month, the commune gathered to say a prayer of deliverance over me. My head was anointed with oil and everyone laid hands on my head, speaking in tongues. The demons of pride, self-righteousness and rebellion were supposedly cast out of me.
I was confused.
Was there really a struggle for my soul in Heaven between God and the Devil? Why didn't I feel it then?
I still had no idea what I had done wrong or what part of the Devil Marianne had seen in me, but I was just glad and relieved that it was over.
Later I found out that I was not the only one who had gone through a breaking when I was stunned to read two Letters of Confession, published for the whole Family, in which Dad confessed his sins as part of a public demotion and retraining at the Kings house. First, he admitted his fame with
Music with Meaning
had made him too proud. During his years in college he had dabbled in the occult. The demons must have latched on to him and he asked for cleansing prayer to rid him of their influence. I was hurt when he wrote that the women in his life were better off since he had left them for the Lord.
Did he really believe that?
I wondered.
In a second Confession, he said that he had made an idol of his mother, Krystyna. Mo had said that demons could "hitchhike" into your home; riding in on photographs. To break her hold and get rid of the evil spirits on her photographs, Dad had burned every picture of our grandmother. She was a Catholic and a loving mother before her death. How was anything about her demonic? I was heartbroken that he had destroyed these irreplaceable pictures that had been given to him by his father and relatives on his trip to Poland in search of his roots. The only photograph left of our grandmother is the one he gave me to keep on his return.
On the back of the Teen Training Camps, "retraining centers" were being set up in key locations around the world for the Family's teenagers and "rebel" adults to be sent to for further training. At the same time, Mo went too far in his meddling with Filipino politics and the military, and the Family wore out their welcome. The media picked up the story and Mo declared the Philippines a "reaped field." Marianne was ordered to move her entire Home to Tokyo. During this period of transition, Armi, Krys, my little sister Juliana and I were sent a nearby complex in Manila so huge it was known as the Jumbo. Krys still lived with us in the girls' teen room even though she had just had a
This display of emotion satisfied Marianne that she had finally broken my pride and rebellious spirit. She pronounced my "sentence"; I would have to spend the next month in isolation, reading and writing reactions to Mo Letters on rebellion, yieldedness, submission and demon possession. I would have an adult "buddy" who would read with me—I was not allowed to talk to anyone else.
Changing my attitude would not be enough though. I was also asked to change my name. Celeste was too spacey (because it meant "heavenly" in Spanish). My head was too much in the clouds and I needed to choose a more down-to-earth name.
"You have a few days to think and pray about it, and then you can get back to me on what the Lord shows you," she said.
For three days I could drink only soup and water. The hunger pains were my only company as I was confined in a small room apart from everyone else. At the end of the three days, Marianne asked,
"Well, have you decided on your new name?"
I nodded. "Joan, after Joan of Arc. I want to be a fighter like her."
Marianne was pleased with this. "Jesus needs fighters in his Endtime army," she said. "Good. I'll let everyone know."
During my month of isolation my mind and feelings went numb, almost as if I went into shutdown mode. I remember this time as a blur, where one day blended into another. At the end of the month, the commune gathered to say a prayer of deliverance over me. My head was anointed with oil and everyone laid hands on my head, speaking in tongues. The demons of pride, self-righteousness and rebellion were supposedly cast out of me.
I was confused.
Was there really a struggle for my soul in Heaven between God and the Devil? Why didn't I feel it then?
I still had no idea what I had done wrong or what part of the Devil Marianne had seen in me, but I was just glad and relieved that it was over.
Later I found out that I was not the only one who had gone through a breaking when I was stunned to read two Letters of Confession, published for the whole Family, in which Dad confessed his sins as part of a public demotion and retraining at the Kings house. First, he admitted his fame with
Music with Meaning
had made him too proud. During his years in college he had dabbled in the occult. The demons must have latched on to him and he asked for cleansing prayer to rid him of their influence. I was hurt when he wrote that the women in his life were better off since he had left them for the Lord.
Did he really believe that?
I wondered.
In a second Confession, he said that he had made an idol of his mother, Krystyna. Mo had said that demons could "hitchhike" into your home; riding in on photographs. To break her hold and get rid of the evil spirits on her photographs, Dad had burned every picture of our grandmother. She was a Catholic and a loving mother before her death. How was anything about her demonic? I was heartbroken that he had destroyed these irreplaceable pictures that had been given to him by his father and relatives on his trip to Poland in search of his roots. The only photograph left of our grandmother is the one he gave me to keep on his return.
On the back of the Teen Training Camps, "retraining centers" were being set up in key locations around the world for the Family's teenagers and "rebel" adults to be sent to for further training. At the same time, Mo went too far in his meddling with Filipino politics and the military, and the Family wore out their welcome. The media picked up the story and Mo declared the Philippines a "reaped field." Marianne was ordered to move her entire Home to Tokyo. During this period of transition, Armi, Krys, my little sister Juliana and I were sent a nearby complex in Manila so huge it was known as the Jumbo. Krys still lived with us in the girls' teen room even though she had just had a
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