Amber Scorah’s memoir about leaving one of the most controlling and restrictive of religious organizations, the Jehovah’s Witnesses— a movement that Canadian academic M. James Penton characterizes as “alienated from the world” and “hostile to society in general”—appears to have grown out of an article published in the American bimonthly magazine The Believer..
Ironically, it was Scorah’s travelling with her Jehovah’s Witness husband as a “missionary pioneer” to China, the largest totalitarian country in the world, that allowed her to escape the extreme, end-of-days religious sect and her moribund marriage. Jehovah’s Witnesses are banned in China. In order for members to operate there, the organization’s normally rigid structures and dictates (e.g., thrice-weekly meetings) have to be relaxed. Witnesses must function under the radar of the government. They must first form “worldly” friendships with Chinese citizens, slyly sussing out early on whether or not potential converts are connected to the communist party. If no government connections are detected, JW “preachers” can then proceed to a more toned-down version of proselytization than is typically conducted in North America.
Apparently linguistically gifted, Scorah seems to have caught on to Mandarin more easily than most. (Prior to moving to Shanghai, she and her husband spent three years in Taiwan, attending language classes there.) Witnesses are firmly opposed to higher education: Armageddon is on the horizon, so what’s the point of going to school? Learning only makes a person more worldly; it bloats one’s sense of self. More importantly, attending college or university exposes young people to dangerous views contrary to the faith, and equips them with the intellectual tools to begin asking questions. In this regard, Scorah is initially a typical Witness. With no post-secondary experience or specialized training, she is poorly equipped for employment of any sort. As many Witnesses in foreign countries do, she sets herself up as a teacher of English. Subsequently and somewhat surprisingly, she manages to get a job delivering a weekly podcast for foreigners who want to better understand Chinese ways. A listener in California, Jonathan, begins messaging her as a result of her work, and an online friendship and flirtation develops. Jonathan eventually learns of Scorah’s religion and challenges her about it on a daily basis, gradually eroding her faith and a lifetime of programming. As she begins the process of “leaving the Witness”, Scorah holds on tightly to Jonathan, seemingly her only friend in the larger world. She believes her relationship with him will provide a route out of the Witness life. Not surprisingly, he makes himself increasingly unavailable.
Scorah describes the attempts of Witness elders stationed in Shanghai to intervene and set her straight. She tells about their exhortations to her to pray and repent, and about the threat of being “disfellowshipped” (excluded from the fold). Her experience of being shunned is mentioned, though not in much detail, as is her fear of being deemed an apostate (one who has rebelled against “Jehovah God”). “Apostasy,” she writes, “is the worst of all sins, the only one for which there is no forgiveness possible.” In spite of this and her lack of an exit plan, she feels an unrelenting “low electrical current” buzzing behind her panic—the persistent, unsettling hum of the thought “that we were all wrong. It wasn’t the truth.” Alarming as this inner sense is, it keeps her going.
As the title of the memoir suggests, this is a story about leaving and finding another way of living. The book gives only a sketchy, impressionistic sense of what it was like for Scorah to grow up within the religion. (Lloyd Evans’s memoir, The Reluctant Apostate provides a more informative and comprehensive treatment of that experience.) Although Scorah was a third-generation Jehovah’s Witness, in many ways, her upbringing within the sect was not typical. Her parents were, for the most part, inactive in the movement, mainly because of her father’s alcoholism and reluctance to engage socially. (He died from alcohol-abuse-related organ failure at the age of 47.) Scorah’s practising-JW grandmother had stepped in to save Amber and her siblings from succumbing to the temptations of the world. These interventions are mentioned in passing by the author. However, the details of childhood and youth are not the author’s focus. I’ll admit to being somewhat disappointed by this.
Scorah spends some time documenting the hard psychological work involved in redefining oneself after rejecting a rigid religious ideology upon which one’s identity has been based. Her treatment of the practical aspects of making her own way in the world—moving to New York, finding a place to live, gaining employment and a formal education, making friends, having a relationship and a child—is rather rushed and superficial.
Scorah chooses to end her memoir by describing a tragedy that befalls her out of the blue—randomly—as tragedies so often do. All her challenges to this point—the loss of a religion, a marriage, family, friends—have been met with a kind of fierce determination, a drive to survive. But now, she must grapple with an experience that knocks the stuffing out of her. What she learns about “the cost of being raised on myths” is that “it makes it impossible to deceive oneself anymore.” She writes:
I begin to understand why people concocted ideas about life and death. I now know what dread we were all trying to avoid, with our cults and religions. Even those with no religion—we were all hiding, indoctrinated, embedded with ideas about how we must be and must live to impose order on the disorder. . . only the upheavals, the blindsides, the tragedies . . . discompose us enough to investigate just how much the environment in which we find ourselves has created the way we see the world. It is a struggle to see the truth through our indoctrination, to verify the stories told to us by the culture we have been born into, or have chosen.
With its unusual Shanghainese setting and observations about Chinese culture and customs, Leaving the Witness makes for an interesting reading experience. It is an important testimony about what it means to break away from an oppressive and controlling religious cult.
Rating: 3.5