“Jehovah’s Witnesses recently sold a building in New York for $300 million to some developers to build apartment buildings. It feels like they just did it so they could have more doors to knock on.” – Nimesh Patel
I’ve mentioned on many, many occasions that I am intrigued by religious connection. To overshare more than a little, I believe this is because I simply feel so disconnected from religion; it’s fascinating to me at a distance.
This might be a shock to people who’ve noticed a resume with more than one Jewish organization, or my four trips to Israel in six years, or the fact that I sometimes host Shabbat dinner. But what I find most beautiful about Judaism is the potential for open interpretation: you can be wildly secular and deeply connected to your cultural community at the same time (case in point).
And so, when faced with stories of people who are wholly immersed in their religion, I am awed. It’s not just Hebrew school horror stories and ideas for making matzo bearable. It’s a commitment to a set of beliefs, the deep conviction in their understanding of the world, and the trust in the plan of a higher being.
At times, I’m envious. How wonderful to believe in a larger plan, a reason for things.
And then, at other times, especially when it’s at odds with modernity, it’s harder to see its value. And when it seems harmful, how do you reconcile religion and humanity?
This was the feeling I got while reading Leaving the Witness. I’d heard about the book from Amber Scorah’s interview on The Daily Show and was intrigued enough to read it; I don’t know much about Jehovah’s Witnesses aside from the stereotype (like the joke above from the Nimesh Patel stand up set I saw in DC).
Amber has lived an interesting life to be sure – she’s a clear and descriptive writer who weaves emotion and anecdotes with background information. The reader joins her on her extremely personal journey, feeling the shifts in her mindset as the book progresses. She is a flawed hero – as they tend to be – and you root for her as she navigates a life foreign to so many.
The most jarring passage comes late in the book (88% according to Kindle). At this point, you’ll have heard some pretty shocking things: predatory practices in the name of mission work, forced confessions of sexual activity, stories of disownment and shunning and abandonment. But at this late stage of the book, Amber tells the story of a man named Dale so tragically and so beautifully that you realize this is perhaps the entire thesis statement.
I won’t spoil the main part of the story, but here’s how it ends:
“There was no place for Dale in our community, and no place for him outside it. Though he had been a Jehovah’s Witness his entire life, and all his friends were Witnesses, including his son, he did not have a funeral. The elders said it wasn’t possible to hold a funeral for a disfellowshipped man in the Kingdom Hall.”
This is, to me, the central tragedy. There is comfort and positivity to be found in religion. But how do you abandon – or discard, in Dale’s case – a human in the name of your beliefs? What kind of religion would encourage or even force that? This book will fascinate you and infuriate you and challenge your faith in humanity and likely make you question things beyond religion. Read it.
You’ll like this if: you want an inside look into a religion that you’ve probably heard about in passing but may not understand beyond a surface level.
Happy reading!
Other Suggested Content:
– Amber Scorah in The Cut: Life After Modesty
– Amber Scorah on The Daily Show
– Nimesh Patel’s Jehovah’s Witness joke
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