A magazine on an unoccupied chair.

The Next Day, and the Months that Followed.

Unable to sleep in an unusual environment, I was lying on one of the mats assigned to me in a row of mats lined side by side in the canteen of a disused jam factory, just two blocks from Bromley North terminus station. As the night gave way to a weak December dawn, gradually, a mural of the Pied Piper began to consolidate on the wall nearest to where I was sprawled. 

As I stared at the motif, my mind went back to the last 12 hours or so. I recall approaching the Lyceum Ballroom just off Waterloo Bridge. The humiliation I felt when I was turned away by the two doormen, and then encountered these two young men on my way to Sundown's, a nightclub on Charing Cross Road. With these two guys, I boarded a train at Charing Cross Station to Bromley North. When we arrived at the factory, I saw the placard fixed on the front facing the street, bearing the words,

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16.

Over the door was a smaller glass panel. On it were childish lettering: Children of God.

By full daylight, we were all told to arise and get ready for breakfast. We lined up to receive our plates from the kitchen hatchet, like at any works canteen. Two men were in front of me in the queue, and they turned to hug each other. Then, one of them, a tall individual with the name Vessel, embraced me.

Something happened in me. I have never been hugged in my life, neither by my parents nor any of my friends. Yet this stranger hugged me. What is this new faith all about? Could Vessel see me as someone of worth?

However, after breakfast, I was preparing to return home when Paul and Corinthian stopped me, and insisted that I remain. But they didn't bank on my determined character, which I developed while working in a rough-and-tumble, all-male environment of a family-owned furniture factory. 

The reason why I had to return home was that, had I stayed, my parents would have reported me missing, and the police would have gotten involved. I had already spent one unscheduled night away, and that wasn't the first time, as sleepovers at Sandra's home in Wimbledon happened frequently.

But this was one lesson I quickly learned at the COG cult, that David Berg has forbidden any contact between his followers and their families. This he has gotten from what Jesus taught in Luke 9:61-62:

And another also said, Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at home in my house. And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.

Learning these verses as a new convert was a shock, and has made me doubt the character of Jesus. Was he really the Saviour? Or does it involve work on our part, which is a natural human instinct?

However, COG's most centrally used verse is found in Luke 14:33. which reads: Likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.

This conveyed the idea that, because I decided to return home that Sunday morning, Jesus had given up on me and judged me as unfit for the Kingdom. Since I own things and have money in the bank, all these things that are rightfully mine must be given up and handed over to the cult, including my bank account. This is in accordance with Acts 4:34-35:

Neither was there any among them that lacked, for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostle's feet: and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need.

To rub it in further, the story of Ananas and Sapphira is quoted, threatening death to anyone who lied to the apostles, holding back some of their money, and declaring their full price (Acts 5:1-11). Indeed, the homeless tramp sleeping in the street is to be envied. He'll be the greatest in the Kingdom of God.

COG in the UK had two double-decker buses.

After arriving home, I started reading Dad's Bible, given to him by a Jehovah's Witness back in the fifties, when I was little. I studied the Gospel of Luke and John, and I couldn't understand the apparent contradictions between believing in him and the conditions of discipleship. And this is the error, possibly deliberate, promoted by COG. Not rightly dividing the Word of Truth.

Salvation by grace alone and discipleship are mutually exclusive. Salvation is a free gift from God to the believer through faith in the finished work of Christ on the cross. Discipleship, on the other hand, is a voluntary serving with rewards at the end. Eternal life is a free gift. Rewards are earned through faithful service. But the followers of David Berg didn't tell me that. Hence the confusion. Having "put my hand to the plough and looking back", I found it difficult to believe that God was interested in me.

In the weeks that followed, I journeyed to Bromley every week to be with COG's members. I was welcomed but not received as a member. However, my conversion began to have an impact on my work colleagues.

One morning in 1973, I brought in the Gideons' New Testament to work. It was a small pocket-sized book which I was able to keep on my person throughout. It was given to all of us at school, but it had been kept away until that morning. My foreman, Bill, the one who had put me in my place on the bottom rung, literally blushed when I showed him the book. He looked to be afraid of it. But I wasn't. Suddenly, it seemed that this small fry had achieved some power. Even Alf reacted.

One afternoon, we were discussing a documentary programme shown the previous evening on TV. It was about a 4,000-year old corpse of a Chinese preserved in ice, and remaining fully intact. Then all of a sudden, in front of me, he said, At least we know this Chinese existed. As for Jesus Christ, they never even found one of his b***s!

I gasped at such blasphemy, and apparently, the others in the workshop did too. However, the word of my conversion spread throughout the whole factory, and I was treated with greater respect. However, I wished that I responded with, Of course, they were never found. After three days, he rose from the dead. And his whole body was resurrected! How I could kick myself for remaining quiet, but I admit, I was frozen in shock.

For several weeks, I travelled alone to Bromley. Back then in the seventies, at weekends, trains were direct to Bromley North from Charing Cross. During the working week, trains bound for Bromley departed from Cannon Street. Nowadays, one has to change trains at Grove Park for the Bromley branch line.

One Saturday, I was told that either the whole colony or part of it had moved to a townhouse near Portobello Road in the Notting Hill area of Central London. I found the address and spent the night at the townhouse. It was during this time that I envied these people. They were the true disciples of Christ. I wasn't. They were to get glory. I was lucky if I was saved. Having grown up as a Catholic, understanding the love of God through free grace was already difficult. Indeed, God knows whose his favourites are. You must forsake all and be wholly committed to the group. Any affection for family members at home demonstrates a lukewarm form of discipleship Christ isn't interested in. It was here that I made up my mind to join COG as a full-time member.

Children of God colony in full morning praise.

The following morning, the leader of the colony appeared, a burly chap with a beard. After explaining how I felt about joining, he took one look at me and ordered me off the premises. An Englishman, he probably thought I was gay, and he didn't want my type to be around. So I went home.

However, on another Saturday, I walked through Leicester Square when I encountered some COG members at a stall, dishing out Mo Letters to the public. Mo Letters are literature written by David Berg, who was given the name Moses by the Children, after bringing them out of the USA with the conviction that God is about to destroy America. Mo is the shortened version of Moses.

After asking if they were still based in Notting Hill, one of them directed me to Railton Road, Brixton. I was instructed to find a house with a placard outside, addressing who they were. A tube train ride later, I alighted at Brixton, a terminus of the Victoria Line, and made my way through the High Street to Railton Road. I walked its length slowly and carefully, checking every house on this rundown street. No placard. Nowhere was one to be seen.

Eventually, I arrived at an infant/junior school at the far end of Railton Road, towards Herne Hill. Some young men were standing outside. I approached one, Chris, the youth leader, and asked him where the COG colony was. Next to him was David, a tall, lanky fellow who was to become my new friend. At my request, Chris gave me a look, then invited me inside the school. In a large room, chairs were arranged, theatre-style, and some young people were already gathering for a film show that was soon to begin.

There was one unoccupied chair, and I was directed to it. On it, as if by random, was a magazine. Curious, I picked it up.

The magazine was titled Buzz, and it was published by the Church of England. On the cover was a photo of two beautiful women. One was Faith, the daughter of David Brandt Berg. She is pictured saying to the other:

EZEKIEL 34 IS REFERRING TO MY FATHER.

At the foot of the cover, in smaller lettering, were the words,

The Truth about David 'Moses' Berg and the Children of God Movement.

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Next Week: Did the Lord visit me in our home lounge?