One winter morning, Beverly attempted to call in sick to work and found that our phone was not working and had to walk a few blocks to a phone booth to call the phone company. She was informed that our phone service had been cut off due to unpaid bills. She called me at work and after a few more calls we found out that none of our utilities had been paid! We were in danger of having our electricity and heat shut off, and possibly evicted. Beverly contacted Wanda and the three of us waited at home to confront Bernie about the finances.
Our arrangement was that we would each contribute one fourth of monthly expenses and that Bernie would then pay the bills. (I believe that due to different work schedules we were mostly on our own for meals) What was really happening was that Bernie, who was out of work, would pretend to leave for work in the morning and spend the day at a local bar, spending the money that the three of us gave him for bills on booze. So, we were now several months behind on our rent and utilities. Wanda, Beverly and I were ready to throw him out that night, but our branch leader, Sam P, convinced us to be forgiving and give him the opportunity to redeem himself and pay back all that he owed. Going forward, I would be the house treasurer, but Bernie would be responsible to cover all the back bills. I don't know why we thought this would work, but pressure from leadership didn't give us much choice. This was the first of many red flags in my time in The Way. In an ordinary roommate situation, Bernie would have been out on his ass without any further discussion, but in The Way, the leaders were to be obeyed. Supposedly God would protect us and "honor our believing" if we followed our leaders without question. Here's how that worked out: about a month later we discovered that Bernie was paying the back bills with rubber checks. This time we didn't wait for any input from Sam - we kicked him out without any further discussion.
Sam was not happy with us. We were "reproved" for our "hard-heartedness" and Bernie was allowed to sub-lease the basement apartment in another Way Home. He eventually was thrown out of there for nonpayment of financial obligations.
We managed to scrape together enough money to cover the back bills and avoid being evicted, but not before our heat was cut off in the middle of December. This particular neighborhood's homes were heated by oil. A truck would come around regularly and filled the oil tanks which fueled the heater. Since they weren't paid we had no oil. I have a not-so-happy memory of Wanda, Beverly and I sitting in the living room bundled up in coats, hats, gloves and blankets, eating take-out pizza. While I don't believe in the efficacy of prayer any longer, during our no-heat interlude, I received what appeared to be an answer to prayer. It was Hanukkah, the Jewish observance that involves a story of the oil for the temple lamps lasting eight days, even though there was only one day's worth left. We prayed, loudly and somewhat obnoxiously and then went downstairs to fire up the furnace. Even though we were certain we had no oil left, it started and we had enough oil for 8 days, when the next oil delivery came.
In the aftermath of this incident, Wanda never let go of her anger and withdrew from involvement in The Way, which was problematic since this was a Way Home. She eventually moved out. State leadership got involved and decided that I would be transferred to another Way Home in the Richmond Hill neighborhood in the central part of Queens. Beverly would remain in Queens Village and was joined by several other women.
This incident should have given me a heads-up to what a cluster fuck The Way was. The allegedly infallible leadership had missed the boat, not once, but twice. They pushed us to give him a second chance, which he bungled, not to mention their decision to put him in a leadership position in the first place. This was supposed to be an experience that allowed and encouraged me to grow spiritually, but it turned out to be a nightmare. I should have bailed out then and there, but what I did was double down on my commitment to The Way. I rationalized that what I needed to do (The Way was real big on what we all "needed") was increase my commitment. Part of this was that I was unwilling to admit that I was wrong. It would have been humiliating to admit that the experiment failed and go back to live with my parents, I had no other options for roommates, and it was financially unfeasible for me to live alone. I had rationalized that, despite the problems, I was involved in something bigger than myself and the benefits of having "the truth" outweighed the piddling personality issues.
So, in early 1980 I moved from Queens Village to the Richmond Hill Way Home for the next phase of my Way sojourn.
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