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Eccentric, maybe, but their kingdom keeps coming

By Chris McGillion
December 9, 2003

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This week's convention of Jehovah's Witnesses in Sydney (which is expected to involve 60,000) is being viewed by those outside the organisation as a curious logistical exercise and - despite its relative uniqueness in a secular city like Sydney - little else.

It seems the idea that those attending may have something to offer beyond a small boost to the local economy is beyond the imagination of some people and may even reflect the Witnesses' reputation as God-fearing nuisances who want to convert everybody else to their eccentric beliefs.

That is unfortunate for two reasons. First, Jehovah's Witnesses are deeply committed people who could teach the members of other faiths a thing or two about how to be passionate and enthusiastic about one's beliefs without also being dangerous or threatening. After all, door-knocking is at the benign end of religious fanaticism these days.

Second, the Jehovah's Witnesses offer a textbook study in the origin, mutation and appeal of fringe Christian churches.

The Jehovah's Witnesses are a product of a 19th-century American culture that also spawned the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons), the Christadelphians, Seventh Day Adventists and the Christian Science movement.

The church's teachings owe their origin to Charles Taze Russell, a congregationalist from Pennsylvania who began publishing the Watchtower magazine in 1879 and founded the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society two years later (the name Jehovah's Witnesses was adopted in 1931). The church owes its initial success to the free market in religious ideas that has long permeated the United States and the popularity of "end times" beliefs among Americans towards the end of the 1800s.

Russell proclaimed that Jesus Christ would return in 1874. When nothing much happened, he revised his prophecy to say that Jesus' presence had descended but that his physical return would occur in 1914 when the world would end as well. This came to nothing, although the outbreak of World War I allowed Russell to save some face and his following grew.

After Russell's death, Joseph Franklin Rutherford was elected president. Rutherford, who predicted that the great prophets of the Bible would return in physical form to mark the end of the world in 1925, had a luxurious house built for them in San Diego (which he occupied) and declared that "millions now living will never die".

The movement survived the 1925 no-shows and another mistake over dating the world's demise by insisting that "Gentile Times" at least had come to an end. When a third prediction of a more tangible finale came to nothing in 1975, a large number left the church. Leaders finally conceded that while setting dates added urgency to their beliefs, it also left them open to derision, and they stopped the practice.

As the church grew, there was a problem with its teaching that only 144,000 believers would be saved. This was resolved by distinguishing between those who would enjoy paradise in heaven and the many more who would experience it on earth.

If teachings have been modified over the years, so too have approaches to encouraging new members. Systematic door-knocking, for instance, became popular after World War II. The church says its active members spend, on average, 200 hours a year door-knocking and that last year they notched up well over a billion hours worldwide.

With 6 million members (about 60,000 Australians), the Witnesses must be doing something right. Part of that involves finding people who are facing personal crises, encouraging them to blame their problems on the "world", and then recommending they take refuge in the supportive environment of the church. (The results are not always positive. In Awakening of a Jehovah's Witness: Escape from the Watchtower Society, published this year in the US, a former member, Diane Wilson, described being cut off from family and friends who were not Witnesses, being encouraged to "spy" on other members, and other manipulative behaviour inside the organisation.)

Part of their success may also be due to its organisational flexibility. Mainstream churches remain essentially parochially focused, an arrangement that suits static populations but looks increasingly like a feudal relic in more mobile communities. Jehovah's Witnesses, by contrast, have local "kingdom halls". But they are linked by a small publishing empire and motivated by periodic mass rallies - such as this week's convention.

That is another reason why this gathering is more interesting than simply the number of hotel rooms it will account for.
