As I continued my research in order to glean a more definitive answer for the differences between a cult and a religion, I began to look at the topic in a different frame of mind. I had been ready to malign all organizations that seemed ‘cult-like,’ and write all the nastiness I could find out about them, which was a lot.

In my continued quest to find definitive answers about the difference between a cult and a religion, trying to piece together a pattern or a sign that would be obvious, I read more horror stories than I expected. In many instances, as with the previous written accounts, the answers were obvious that those groups would be considered cults. But why? Was it the destructive ends? Would we have known that one of those organizations was a cult instead of a religion if there were no sensational ends? Likely not.

There aren’t many people who have not heard of Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple and his horrifying execution of over 900 followers that came in the guise of a mass suicide. How could that have happened? How could anyone have that kind of power over such a large mass of people to make outsiders think they volunteered to drink the cyanide concoction? It was not voluntary. On November 18th, 1978, the people were forced at the point of a shotgun to drink the Kool-Aid. The question then becomes: how could anyone who supposedly loved his flock do that to them?

The exact definition of ‘cult’ seemed a bit nebulous, when I researched the term because opinions varied.

One definition claimed that a cult was: having a charismatic leader, self-appointed, who required devoted followers to obey his/her teachings without question.

Another definer stated that a cult was: a group of individuals with the same religious philosophies and beliefs.

We moved to a small town in the Cascade Mountains of Oregon six years ago after buying a business with our partners. Each partner thought the place was lovely but me. I thought the town seemed backward and uncared for.

A scream pierced that quiet night as I ran from the church in search of my beloved Maria. She was to meet me after mass for a clandestine night alone, away from our families — even though we knew it was wrong — because we were deeply in love and tried to find every opportunity to be together. But she did not show up at our meeting place after waiting and waiting.

He had never lifted a hand to punish me for anything in my life up to that point. He would let me know his disapproval when it was needed, and I might be grounded for doing something I should have known better not to do, but he never spanked me. At least not until after the church interfered.