|
| In this 2012 photo provided by a former member of the church, Word of Faith Fellowship leader Jane Whaley, center, holds a baby, accompanied by her husband, Sam, center right, and others during a ceremony in the church's compound in Spindale, N.C. From all over the world, they flocked to this tiny town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, lured by promises of inner peace and eternal life. What many found instead: years of terror _ waged in the name of the Lord. |
SPINDALE,
N.C. (AP) -- From all over the world, they flocked to this tiny
town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, lured by promises of
inner peace and eternal life. What many found instead: years of terror -
waged in the name of the Lord.
Congregants of
the Word of Faith Fellowship were regularly punched, smacked, choked,
slammed to the floor or thrown through walls in a violent form of
deliverance meant to "purify" sinners by beating out devils, 43 former
members told The Associated Press in separate, exclusive interviews.
Victims
of the violence included pre-teens and toddlers - even crying babies,
who were vigorously shaken, screamed at and sometimes smacked to banish
demons.
"I saw so many people beaten over the
years. Little kids punched in the face, called Satanists," said
Katherine Fetachu, 27, who spent nearly 17 years in the church.
Word
of Faith also subjected members to a practice called "blasting" - an
ear-piercing verbal onslaught often conducted in hours-long sessions
meant to cast out devils.
As part of its
investigation, the AP reviewed hundreds of pages of law enforcement,
court and child welfare documents, along with hours of conversations
with Jane Whaley, the evangelical church's controlling leader, secretly
recorded by followers.
The AP also spent more than a year tracking down dozens of former disciples who scattered after leaving the church.
Those
interviewed - most of them raised in the church - say Word of Faith
leaders waged a decades-long cover-up to thwart investigations by law
enforcement and social services officials, including strong-arming young
victims and their parents to lie.
They said
members were forbidden to seek outside medical attention for their
injuries, which included cuts, sprains and cracked ribs.
Several former followers said some congregants were sexually abused, including minors.
The
former members said they were speaking out now due to guilt for not
doing more to stop the abuse and because they fear for the safety of the
children still in the church, believed to number about 100.
In
the past, Whaley has strongly denied that she or other church leaders
have ever abused Word of Faith members and contended that any discipline
would be protected by the First Amendment's freedom of religion tenets.
She
and church attorney Josh Farmer turned down repeated AP requests for
interviews to discuss the fresh allegations from the dozens of former
congregants. But hours after the AP's stories were released, the church
posted a statement on its website calling the allegations false and
contending they were made by "certain former members" out to target the
church.
"We do not condone or allow abuse - in any form - at our church. Period," the statement said.
The
ex-members said the violence was ever-present: Minors were taken from
their parents and placed in ministers' homes, where they were beaten and
blasted and sometimes completely cut off from their families for up to a
decade.
For several years, males perceived as
the worst sinners were kept in a four-room former storage facility in
the compound called the Lower Building. They were cut off from their
families for up to a year, never knew when they would be released, and
endured especially violent, prolonged beatings and blastings, according
to more than a dozen of those interviewed.
Teachers
in the church's K-12 school encouraged students to beat their
classmates for daydreaming, smiling and other behavior that leaders said
proved they were possessed by devils, the former followers said.
"It
wasn't enough to yell and scream at the devils. You literally had to
beat the devils out of people," said Rick Cooper, 61, a U.S. Navy
veteran who spent more than 20 years as a congregant and raised nine
children in the church.
Word of Faith
Fellowship has been scrutinized on numerous occasions by law
enforcement, social services agencies and the news media since the early
1990s- all without significant impact, mostly because followers refused
to cooperate.
Some former members offered a
more doctrinal explanation for their decades of silence: Frequent
warnings by Whaley that God would strike them dead if they betrayed her
or her church.
Word of Faith Fellowship was
founded in 1979 by Whaley, a petite former math teacher, and her
husband, Sam, a former used car salesman.
They
are listed as co-pastors but all of those interviewed said it is Jane
Whaley - a fiery, 77-year-old Christian Charismatic preacher - who
maintains dictatorial control of the flock and also administers some of
the beatings herself.
She has scores of strict
rules to control congregants' lives, including whether they can marry
or have children. At the top of the list: No one can complain about her
or question her authority. Failure to comply often triggers a
humiliating rebuke from the pulpit or, worse, physical punishment,
according to most of those interviewed.
Under
Jane Whaley's leadership, Word of Faith grew from a handful of followers
to a 750-member sect, concentrated in a 35-acre complex protected by
tight security and a thick line of trees.
The group also has nearly 2,000 members in churches in Brazil and Ghana, and affiliations in other countries.
Those
attending the church's twice-a-year international Bible seminars were
encouraged to move to Spindale, a community of 4,300 midway between
Charlotte and Asheville. It wasn't until they sold their homes and
settled in North Carolina that the church's "dark side" gradually
emerged, former members said.
By then -
isolated from their families and friends, and believing Whaley was a
prophet - they were afraid to leave or speak out, they said.
Given
what they characterize as Whaley's record for retribution against those
she sees as traitors, the former members said they hope there is
strength and protection in speaking out in numbers.
"For most of my life, I lived in fear. I'm not scared anymore," said John Cooper, one of Rick Cooper's sons.
Still,
many former church members say the memories - and the nightmares -
never seem to fade, and they live in fear for their family members still
inside.
Danielle Cordes, now 22, said she has
deep psychological scars from spending more than three-quarters of her
life in Whaley's world.
Three years ago, the
last time she tried to visit her parents' house, her father slammed the
door in her face without saying a word. To this day, whenever she calls,
family members hang up.
"I need my family and they're gone," she said.
Said
Rick Cooper: "You're cut off from everyone in the world. The church -
and Jane - is the only thing you know. You believe she's a prophet - she
has a pipeline to God. So you stand by while she rips your family
apart. I'm not sure how you ever get over that."
