Broken Faith - Inside the Word of Faith Fellowship, One of America's Most Dangerous Cults - Mitch Weiss Page 0,8

want to talk to you about Jesus Christ!”

The man bolted down the street, terrified. Rick followed, sprinting faster and faster until they disappeared around a corner.

Rick was a religious nut, Wanda concluded then. But now, with this wacko Jane Whaley woman, Rick had finally lost his mind.

She didn’t know what to do. Suzanne was obviously being brainwashed, but if Wanda kept criticizing Whaley, Suzanne might cut her off.

She decided not to say another word about the church. She’d try to gently steer her daughter in the right direction. It might take time for the light to come on, but Wanda wouldn’t give up.

A few days later Wanda hit the long road back to Florida. A more terrifying thought occurred to her: What if the Fellowship was a doomsday cult, and Whaley was another Jim Jones or David Koresh? More than nine hundred of Jones’s followers had swallowed cyanide-laced drinks in 1978 at his compound in South America. And Koresh and seventy-five of his followers were killed in April 1993 during an FBI raid on the cult compound in Waco, Texas.

Wanda suddenly felt sick.

* * *

Rick drove nails all afternoon, rehearsing what he would say as soon as he got home. Believers had to keep their families in order, or else be left behind when Jesus came to gather His saints to glory. How could the Coopers be found worthy if his mother continued in her worldly ways?

Cora was a member of Word of Faith, but every week she played sweepstakes. She dyed her gray hair black, listened to old Elvis Presley records, and sneaked off to Nashville to the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights. His mother was divorced, and Rick suspected she had a boyfriend who was not a congregant.

He mulled over her rebellion. He was the man in the house now, and it was his duty to confront her, for her own sake.

Rick had already proven that a troubled soul could turn around. He grew up nearby in Boiling Springs, a hardscrabble factory town. When Rick got older his dad taught him how to box, and Rick put those skills to work.

No matter who called him out, Rick wouldn’t back down. He never lost a fight. In 1969, when everyone else was growing his hair, Rick got a crew cut. He was six foot two, all muscle, a badass with a chip on his shoulder.

Rick turned eighteen in 1972. His military draft number was twelve. Instead of chancing being drafted by the Army and ending up in Vietnam, Rick enlisted in the Navy. The world opened up for him. He was stationed in Hawaii, where he studied hapkido with a world-class sensei.

He excelled in his training classes and became a sonar technician on a nuclear submarine. Rick was always good at fixing things. He worked all over the ship—rebuilding a diesel engine, fixing hydraulic gears and heating systems. He became the go-to guy on his vessel, and later traveled to other bases to teach troubleshooting.

In his off-hours Rick drank and picked up “bar girls.” He woke up hungover, his knuckles bloody from fighting.

Then, one afternoon in 1980, he had a dramatic conversion. Rick heard a voice in his apartment, then was struck senseless by a power outside himself. The next thing he remembered he was lying on the floor, with no idea how long he’d been there or what had happened. When he sat up, he felt a peace he had never felt before. This had to be Jesus, he thought. Rick bowed his head, closed his eyes, and prayed for Jesus to forgive him for all the people he’d hurt, and to turn his life around. Rick promised to devote the rest of his life to God, and never do violence again to another man.

When he opened his eyes, Rick was a new man. He began to purge all the sin from his life, starting with the beer, whiskey, and girlie magazines in the apartment.

Rick’s family was delighted. The badass was now a decent, God-fearing man. He took up Bible studies and church services at First Southern Baptist of Honolulu. There he met an Air Force sergeant named Suzanne, a good Christian woman, his miracle in blue.

All these years later, Rick still believed God had brought them together, and had sent them to North Carolina to be part of something great. Here at Word of Faith was the spiritual camaraderie he’d dreamed of for years, a community of people who were as serious about God as he