(part 261 ) MERCY CHURCH SAN LUIS OBISPO

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This is some local christian zealotry from San Luis Obispo, which pervades this entire area. It has become normalized in a way that I find particularly worrisome. Below is one author's take on this church in SLO where I live.

It is his discussion of what had been said about the G12 model, and the possible cult-like abuses that may or may not be occurring in G12 churches.

It is the author's outline of what he called a positive experience visiting Mercy Church , a G12 church in San Luis Obispo. http://www.wholereason.com/2009/07/g12-churches-cults-or-discipleship-with-a-plan-part-iii.html

In this part, He, the author, discusses the G12 model in detail, as to the various roles and stages that a person can progress through in the G12 system.

Most of what he has documented below is from The Ladder of Success, written by G12 founder Cesar Castellanos.

As you will see, the G12 model is a complex, well-developed and thoughtful model on how to create and reproduce mature believers.

At the highest level, there are four main progressive phases:

Win - win someone to Christ
Consolidate - help the new convert solidify their decision and join a cell group
Disciple - help an attendee develop into a mature follower of Christ
Send - help the Disciple become a Leader and Discipler of others

A. The progress and stages of the person across the G12 process

Newborn - a person who attends the Sunday meeting, an event, or a cell group, and asks Christ into their life (that is, they have completed Phase 1: Win)
Cell Member - as the first part of the Consolidation phase (Phase 2),a Consolidator follows up with new converts, and supports them in starting their new life, which includes getting them into the fellowship of a cell group.
Cell Leader - during a member’s first year, they are encouraged to take the next step in Consolidation, which includes attending a weekend retreat, and following that, participating in the School of Leaders, which prepares them to be spiritual mentors and cell group facilitators. Half way through the School, they can facilitate a cell group.
Consolidator - once you are a cell leader, you have the opportunity to get trained as a Consolidator, who follows up with new converts, helping them, befriending them, and getting them to join a cell group on a regular basis. This requires some low-level pastoral skills, including kindness, patience, and persistence, as well as the ability to answer basic doctrinal questions. This step is not required as part of the progression, and can be done any time between becoming a Cell Leader and becoming a G12 Leader.
Disciple - when a person is ready to move from being a Cell Leader to a part of the G12 Vision (reaching the lost through the ‘Government of 12′), they become someone’s Disciple. This entails completing the School of Leaders and committing to be one of a G12 Leader’s “12″. I have a feeling that, once you start the SOL and become a Cell Leader, the pressure or influence to continue on to being a G12 Disciple (“finishing what you started”) may be present, and perhaps formidable.

G12 Leader - Being a G12 Disciple means that you have bought into the G12 Vision, and so, having so committed, you are probably irreversibly on the path to not only being discipled, but beginning the process of gathering your own 12 Disciples. Once you are 2/3 through the School of Ministry (the next phase of schooling), you are prepared to start selecting your 12. This may take time, and is not a ‘choose all at once’ process. You start with a couple and take your time learning to love, serve, and care for your 12.

144 Teacher - Once your 12 Disciples have 12 of their own Disciples, you have 144 people under you following Jesus with all of their hearts – or that’s the idea. NOW, you can attend the School of Teachers, and learn to do things like Visioneering, Pastoring, and leading many of the program’s retreats like the Encounter weekends.
Before I move on to the G12 Process and Training, some observations about the above roles.

Cell Member - I, the author, suspect that many people could just stay at this level, attending cell group and Sunday church, and never enter into the ‘Vision.’ My, the author, understanding is that the content for the Cell Group Bible studies is NOT indoctrination into the G12 system, but plain old bible studies, and there may be plenty of freedom in what these groups study. The Ladder of Success suggests one of Castellano’s books, but also mentions that you could use the week’s Sunday sermon (also not G12 oriented, but just plain bible teaching), or any other thing that interests your ‘homogenous’ group. More on that later. A synonym to help us understand ‘homogenous’ might be ‘affinity’ group. Members with similar interests or demographics.

Disciple - at this point, you are still part of a small group, and perhaps leading one. And you are attending the School. And perhaps meeting with your G12 Leader’s Leader. And attending Sunday church. And maybe even volunteering in one of the Church’s “Departments” (child care, worship, etc.). That could be VERY time consuming. As one critic wrote (letusreason.org)The G12 system has numerous strict standards. In order to be part of the vision, you are expected to be dedicated, attend your cell group once a week, go to retreats, go out to evangelize, go the Sunday morning service and also attend special meetings with your leader’s leader. Each week is surrounded by these church things to do, as your social activities are contained within your cell group. Your week is taken up with these meetings to attend as they make you a more serious disciple.

G12 Leader - As I, the author, mentioned above if you become a Disciple, you have bought into the vision, and are pretty much committing to becoming at least a G12 Disciple. You don’t have to go on to become a 144 Teacher, even if your 12 Disciples all get their own 12 (thereby getting you the 144 ‘downlines’ required as part of the 144 Teacher requirement). However, if one of your 12 goes on to become a G12, and then a 144, I suspect that they might no longer be one of your 12, but a Pastor in their own right, and so you would have to find a new Disciple. That’s my, the author, guess, anyway.

144 Teacher – the main advantage here is that you are now equipped to teach the critical events that move people along the pathway that you have trod – Encounters, Post-Encounters, Schools of Leaders and Ministry. Basically, they have created the self-duplicating unit. I suspect that somewhere along the line between G12 Leader and 144 Teacher, you have to go into ministry full time. But I’m, the author, not sure.

So, no real problems yet, except that such a highly structured program should make you nervous if you have any experience with highly organized spiritual organizations, including cults like Scientology.

Even the scary ‘Consolidator’ is a clearly necessary role – traditionally, we just call it someone to ‘follow up’ with a new believer. Instead of saying we are becoming somone’s “Disciple,” we could just say that we are setting up a formal mentoring program and finding a mentor.

What gives all of these things some scariness is that we, the author, know that behind all of this structure is not just the desire to help people become the best they can be, but the desire to have them adopt the G12 Vision. And what happens if you don’t want to do that?

(part 260) MY PLACE ON THE PLANET

Welcome or not, I was here and here to stay, but back in 1985 I didn't know that, in fact I had no plans to stick around. In my mind it was always a temporary situation, something I would change when I could manage it. So for the first year, I just stood my ground and carved out a place for myself amongst the locals who questioned my presence as if I were a leper in their midst. I hard-assed my way through their cliques with all the subtlety of a street fight in progress.

In the five-cities and surrounding area of San Luis Obispo County, the main theme was "We belong here and you don't." It was never vague, it was never subtle, it was always overt. It was the prevailing force that sought to eliminate anyone it collectively didn't approve of by making them feel unwanted and afraid.

The majority of locals I encountered used religion, community position, and life style, as battering rams to enforce their selections. In their way of looking at things I had nothing to offer. That was their conclusion from the beginning, and still is today in 2011. I was not, and am not, seen as a musician or artist in their midst. I was, and am, looked upon as a low life undesirable.

Because I left L.A. as a failure, in my own mind, I did not come to the Central Coast to continue my pursuit of music. To the contrary, I came here with that buried in a deep dark hole that I was tired of looking in. Back in L.A. I was Bobby Jameson, but when I got here I was simply nobody, nobody at all.

It doesn't matter what one may think about what I should have done back then, because this is the story of what I did, not what I should have done. It is difficult to write about facts when the facts, in hindsight, seem questionable at best. But still, the fact is that I approached San Luis Obispo County from the beginning as a complete and utter loser. My demeanor was more that of an outlaw reject than someone who had worked and studied in the music industry for over twenty years.

I was broke, jobless, and homeless, other than having a mother and brother in the area who chose to take me in. I had no prospects or plan for the future other than to keep breathing and survive until I made my move. My only success, as I have stated, was that I was sober and clean for nine years, so that is what I focussed on.

Because I had nowhere I was supposed to be, I spent my time going to a lot of twelve step meetings in the area, both day and night. That became my destination and purpose, to show up, and without that I would have stayed isolated and alone. It gave me a place to voice my opinion and talk about staying clean and sober through hard times. This became the crux of anything worthwhile that I may have added to this area in the twenty-seven years I have lived here.

I have returned to the subject of my arrival on the central coast of California in 1985 as a response to the email I received from Tom Leatherwood a few weeks ago, who is a local resident from Paso Robles, about 30 minutes from me. His email makes clear what I was faced with when I first came here, an attitude of "Let me tell you how it's gonna be, Boy," an attitude I rejected with all the conviction of "Doc Holiday." It was made crystal clear to me back then that I was unacceptable, and as you can plainly see it hasn't changed a lick.

I am not down on christianity, I am down on anyone who uses it as a sledge hammer against others who do not share those beliefs or agree with them, and/or the book they acquired their beliefs from. For those who believe that the bible is God's Word, I say, "Not to me it isn't." I have actually read the bible, from cover to cover, something I have found that many who claim to believe in it have not actually done. They seem more than willing to take some so-called authority's word for what is contained therein, a dangerous practice.

In my mind, I do not need anyone to translate it or tell me its meaning. It is a book written by men and touted to be the inspired word of God Himself, something I thoroughly reject. God doesn't write books, men do. I am not godless, nor am I a christian, or anything else, but I am committed to fight tyranny no matter what form it comes in. The use of the bible and its contents and prophecies is speculative at best, and a tool of control, fear, and punishment at its worst, the end result being the return of Christ and the utter annihilation of all disbelievers.

Somewhere on the central coast of California is a guy named Bobby Jameson, a guy who learned from experience that those who choose to believe blindly in anything are destined to live as hypocrites and bullies amongst others who truly seek out solutions to life's many pitfalls and temptations. The closed mind, and practice of overt judgement, issued forth by Tom Leatherwood and those like him, have been the corner stone of racism, gender discrimination, and social bullying throughout history. When some choose to follow an ideology based on theology, they cease to think for themselves and are nothing more than a mob demanding that their way is the only way.

I am here on the coast of California in San Luis Obispo as me. I am not here to listen to, or take direction from anyone, regarding what I do, or what I should or shouldn't say about anything. I am sixty-six years old, have thirty-five years of sobriety, and have learned the hard way to survive anything and everything. I have paid my dues in spades, and put no man above me, no matter who or what they claim to represent. I am Bobby Jameson and I earned my place on the planet.

LEGAL UPDATE...COLOR HIM IN

In the last couple of weeks there has been a battle raging over the illegal posting of my 1967 Verve album Color Him In on itunes music store for download sales. This was done without my knowledge or permission by another UK company.

I am pleased to say, as of now, that I have received notification that the album will be removed from itunes. This is a big victory in my battle over the rights to my work.

from: Nicola Saunders
Subject: Re: color him in album by Jameson
Date: September 22, 2011 2:22:00 AM PDT
To: Bobby Jameson


Dear Mr Jameson,

Further to the correspondence below, I can confirm Color Him In will be removed from iTunes on 27th September 2011. This process takes 5 business days and cannot be done immediately, but please be assured that the process of removing this album has commenced and will be completed as soon as possible.

Please let me know if there is anything else you need.

Kind regards

Nicola  

(part 259) JUST LIKE EASY RIDER

Me, Dj, and my brother Bill 1983...click photo to enlarge

In 1985, wherever I went on the central coast, I'd see little christian fish symbols plastered on car bumpers, windows, walls, everything. It was something that got my attention because I'd never seen so many little ads for christianity in my life. It was a form of shouting, "Hey, I'm a believer!" but in my world it did not mean that those broadcasting the message were peaceful, loving, or fair. To the contrary it was an alert to people like me to "stay on your toes."

Not too long after arriving here, I was sitting in a coffee shop in Arroyo Grande with a young girl friend of mine. A couple of tables away were three big guys eyeing me like a piece of rotten meat. I heard one of them say, "If I ever caught my daughter with someone like that I'd get my deer rifle and fix him!" I stared at them for a long time, making it clear I could hear what had been said and that I didn't give a shit about their opinion. It was like a scene out of "Easy Rider."

I found it necessary back then to stay alert at all times, wherever I went, knowing that this kind of thinking was aimed at me on a daily basis throughout the area. I had no allies or friends to speak of, except a few others I'd met at meetings who were looked down on the same way I was. To them it had become routine, almost normal, but to me it was cause to counter anyone who showed that kind of hostility toward me, and show it they did.

I was always ready to fight, both verbally and physically. I would not back down, fearing if I did it would bring even more of that crap my way. I had to take a stand or I could not have survived here. In most cases it was always a guy who'd grown accustomed to intimidating people with his size. The other versions were those who used their supposed standing in the community. In each case, it was guys who were used to people taking their shit and following their orders, something I refused to do even once.

More than a couple of times I went at it in public with these yahoos, turning the air black with verbal counter assaults. Unprepared by-standers watched in silence with their mouths open as I went after these jerks in grocery stores, coffee shops, or wherever the need presented itself. I never started it, other than to just show up, but I was perfectly suited to finish it.

The more they pushed on me, the more I stood up to them. Where once I had wanted to leave the area, I became determined not to be driven out. In 12 step meetings those who had once felt out of place and alone now began seeking me out as a refuge from the entrenched belittlers at large. I befriended the friendless and protected the unwanted. I made it clear that if you went after one of them I would publicly take your ass apart verbally, which in all reality was not that hard to do.

When you're wrong you're wrong, and these guys were dead wrong. They glorified themselves by demeaning the week and unwanted. Even though I could have spared myself a shit-load of trouble, it was impossible to sit by quietly and watch this garbage continue. The things that were said, and those who were saying them, were an affront to everything I'd read in the book Alcoholics Anonymous.

So this is the way it started for me in San Luis Obispo County and the Five Cities area back in 1985--a wake-up call for sure. An L.A. reject trying to find my place in the world, a world completely different from the one I'd left behind, a world where I was not welcomed or wanted.

(part 258) IF I WERE A CARPENTER

Don't know the exact date of this picture, but it is roughly what I looked like when I got to the central coast from L.A.

Back in 1985, if you looked like this you were pegged as a dope fiend and a criminal by those who were claiming the moral high ground. It was their way of enforcing a caste system for their own benefit.

As far as AA was concerned, I was a drug addict, and they didn't want drug addicts in their meetings, even though some of them had probably used drugs themselves, usually prescribed by doctors. It was the same phony bull-shit I'd run into early on in the program in Southern California, and it was rampant in this new setting.

Older alcoholics were telling dual addicted younger people that AA would not work for them because they were drug addicts.

It was this kind of nonsense that caused me, almost immediately, to break my own rule of, "Keep your mouth shut, Bob!" It was not only impossible for me to let this crap go unchallenged, but imperative, as I saw it, to speak up and defy it.

Something else I heard, and still do, was also hard for me to leave alone. People who said, "Hi, my name is so-in-so, and I'm an alcoholic, and I want to thank my higher power, who I call Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, for my sobriety."

One of the great things about AA is it doesn't require anybody to believe in a specific God, philosophy, or religion. This was particularly important to me when I was a newcomer for obvious reasons.

These blatant references to Jesus that I heard from some, were not followed up with "This is just my personal belief, and not a requirement for sobriety or membership in AA." People who were new, and possibly scared to death, were hearing what sounded like a Christian message at meetings. I was unable to sit by quietly and let this stand without pointing out that AA was not a Christian organization, and that maybe God wasn't a Christian either...Again you can readily see that I was making friends all over.

Within a relatively short time, many in the area became aware that I was here, and that I was not a newcomer, but had nine years of sobriety. They also found out that I had a mouth and was not afraid to use it against the established point of view.

Those who had had to endure the purist's iron-clad grip on local meetings for years, were surprised by my knowledge of the book Alcoholics Anonymous, as well as amused by my verbal assaults on the arrogant self-appointed local leaders.

Along with my mouth, I had the added problem of drawing the specific attention of women in meetings, many of whom were married, which proved to be troublesome. The fact that I stood out like a sore thumb appearance-wise, and had little or no fear of who I pissed off once I got rolling, was what I referred to earlier when I said, "It's a nice place to look at, but a hard place to live, if your name is Bobby Jameson."

This was absolutely true in my case. If I'd been a plumber or carpenter, and had stayed in my place, it would have been just dandy, but being me, and coming from where I'd come from, my own history put an end to any chance of that. There was no way, short of tying me up and gagging me, to have made this transition smoothly. I went from totally unknown to infamous in less than two months.

When I got to the central coast, I believed in my mind that I had left L.A. a failure, with one exception, I had stayed clean and sober for nine years. Not the "everything is wonderful" kind, but the rock bottom "don't get loaded no matter what happens" kind.

My one self-perceived non-failure was what I carried with me like a six-gun into every single twelve-step meeting in the area. A no-holds-barred attitude of "this really works, even for a lowlife like me." That was what I had to offer anyone who wanted it. That was the foundation for starting life over in the five cities area of the central coast of California.

(part 257) GET A LOAD OF THIS GUY

This picture, with "Jesus is coming back" in the window, is representative of this area...click to enlarge

Although San Luis Obispo County is rather a nice area to look at, it is a whole different thing to try living there when your name is Bobby Jameson.

It is, in fact, an old ranching community, for the most part, made up of a lot of people who migrated from the central valley of California, from places like Fresno and Bakersfield.

A lot of stout Christianity, agriculture, and military people, just to mention a few of its attractions. Trying to fit me into this backdrop from hell, is exactly what I was faced with the moment I arrived in 1985.

My mother lived in a place called Grover City, if you can believe it, which sounded to me like East Of Eden starring James Dean. It is a small community in between a number of other small towns, known as the Five Cities.

Pismo Beach, Shell Beach, Grover City, Arroyo Grande, and Oceano, a mish-mosh of agriculture, beach towns, and Christian zealot good-ol boys. I fit in about as well as a black guy moving into a Ku Klux Klan stronghold.

I looked like I came from Hollywood. I did not look like I belonged in the Five Cities area. As soon as I hit the street, I was eye-balled to death by the locals, who did not try whatsoever to hide their disenchantment with me.

It was, "Watch your ass, Jameson," from the moment I arrived. Every street fighting instinct I had went on red alert from the first day. You know, like finding yourself in the bad part of town all of a sudden.

I felt like I was in hell as I drove around the area trying to get my bearings. Whereas L.A. offered endless opportunities for everything, this place offered nothing but the evil eye. The vibrations felt like concrete, a thick heavy feeling of, "We got our eye on you, boy!"

I knew I had to establish myself as a member of AA, and find the local meetings, but Jesus Christ, this place was scary. I truly didn't believe I could take it, but knew I had nowhere else to go, so I stayed, "a day at a time," literally.

For a long while, I would go out and sit in my car in the evening, because I felt so out of place and lost. I would try and coax myself into going back to L.A., but in the end would stay for one more day, and then one more, and one more...

My sense of longing for something familiar dogged me for a long time, and the feeling of being a fish out of water would rule my life for years to come. But in the meantime, I would have to make do with my new surroundings and seek out what good I could find.

I drove by a few of the local AA meeting places and sat in my car afraid to go in. From outside I could see a lot of cowboy hats and big bodies, indicating to me that I was gonna fit in here like a fart in a diving helmet.

Finally after a week or so, I made myself go into a meeting in Arroyo Grande called the Firehouse group, because it was held in the fire station. It was bigger than the others so I thought I could lose myself in the back of the room.

"Now don't say anything, Bob, just keep your mouth shut and sit down and shut up," I said to myself, "don't do anything to draw any attention."

I slipped in the door and stood there quietly for a moment, looking around for an empty chair, finding one a couple rows up. I made my way toward it, but as soon as I did, heads began to turn around and eye-ball me.

"Aw shit!" I thought, as I watched one head after another turn in my direction. Smiles crept over their faces as they nudged the person next to them, saying, "Get a load of this guy."