The Children of God

The Inside Story By The Daughter Of The Founder, Moses David Berg

by Deborah (Linda Berg) Davis with Bill Davis, 1984

This book is dedicated—

— to Mr. and Mrs. James P. Davis, and to the generation of parents who have suffered the painful tragedy of having children become cult members. Few will ever know the extent of their suffering;

— and to our children—Joyanne, John, Philip, Nina, Misty Dawn, Clare, David, Davida, and Barak Joseph. To the extent that each of the children has suffered for our sins, it is our prayer that they will learn by our mistakes, realizing that God's present blessing in our lives is but the result of His mercy upon a repentant spirit. May the truths presented in this book be the foundation for the establishment of many godly generations.

We express our deepest appreciation to the following people, without whose support and help—we could not have written this book. There is one we have never met: Rev Richard Wurmbrand. It was through his books and tapes that God revealed to us the mystery of suffering, giving us a deeper understanding of life itself.

Dr. and Mrs. Richard Price

Professor Donald Enroth

Bill Gothard

Rev. Richard Wurmbrand

Kin Millen

Jim Ruark

We will forever be indebted to them all. May God bless them.

Preface

The famous missionary Oswald Chambers wrote, "The first thing to do in examing the power that dominates me is to take hold of the unwelcome fact that I am responsible for being thus dominated." It is on the bedrock of this truth that I write this book. Having been dominated for more than 30 years by the tyranny of religious hypocrisy and human weakness, I have made the choice to expose the sin of a family and of a man who have influenced tens of thousands of people in a very unrighteous and ungodly way. The family is the David Berg family, and the man is my father. For the past four years, I have examined the power that has dominated me, and I have accepted the responsibility to resist that power.

My responsibility entails self-examination, for neither my father nor his movement could have held any power over me at all unless I had yielded to them. It is said that in order to find a real solution, one must find a real problem. This book is an open and honest sharing of my life and heart, revealing the fetters that bound me and the truth that set me free. It was not easy to write this book. But difficulty does not diminish responsibility; I had to write it.

I can tell only my own story and write of my own involvement. This book is written from my perspective. There are close family members and friends who will be affected by my personal exposure. I am not telling their stories, for they may disagree with some things I say. Furthermore, this book is not meant to hurt or hurt them, but to share reality as I have seen it and lived through it.

The Children of God movement founded by my father, David Berg, in 1968 has been known as "Teens for Christ," the "Revolution for Jesus," the "Children of God," and now the "Family of Love." The movement also broadcasts under the name "Music With Meaning" and "Musica Con Vida." Through music it has lured thousands of youth into its clutches. In today's news media and periodicals the movement is commonly referred to as "The Sex Cult of the Eighties." Many stories and books have been written about cults, yet few have dealt with the issues that spell life and death for so many thousands. Why do people join cults? Where does brainwashing begin and end? How does one free himself from the shackles of the cultic experience? Who bears the responsibility for involvement? How does the ex-member deal with guilt and condemnation?

Most of the people in this book are alive; many are still in the cult. The story is wild and bizarre, but it is true. I sometimes find it hard to believe that it really happened to me, yet daily I am surrounded by the living scars and wounds to assure me that it is true. In all sense this story has fulfilled the axiom, "Truth is stranger than fiction." By the mercy of God, I can share it with you.

When I first left the cult, I hid the truth of who I was and what I had done. The past was like a razor's edge on which I was forced to lie—and the consequences of that past pushed me slowly but heavily upon it. Could I ever be a whole person again?

But I came to see that hiding the truth of my life would only hurt my children and spell disaster for them someday down the road of the future. Through the actions of my oldest daughter I saw that they could fall into the same trap as I. I realized I had to tell them the truth. And if it were important for my own children to know the truth, then what about the rest of society and the thousands who have been and are being affected?

I had to resolve two issues in order to write this book. The first, my children's well-being, has been resolved. The second, my mother's well-being is deeply perplexing. In exposing myself I would affect my children: that is my duty. But in exposing my father, I affect my mother: that is painful. I have yet to resolve that pain; perhaps it will never be resolved. Consequently, I am suffering for this book.

PART ONE

Chapter 1

The Coronation

Being the oldest child of David Berg had its special problems. How to accept him as God's Endtime Prophet, Moses David, after thirty years of his being just "dad" caused a rending of my soul, mind, and conscience. Yet securing my total loyalty seemed to be the primary motivation behind the "Prayer For A Queen" prophecy that Moses David received "directly from heaven." The place was London; the time, September 16, 1972.

Hear, O Israel, the words and the prayer of Thy King! Let it be known that:

She is born to be a Queen, and can be no less. She must set the example to show Thy people she puts the work and duty before personal pleasure and personal concerns.

She cannot always be a woman, but she must always be a Queen—She has Thy people in her hands, Thy flock; as Thy Shepherdess, she shall diligently feed and lead them and protect them . . .1

Thus it was prophesied that I was to be crowned Queen: the mouth of the Lord had spoken it! Moses David's prophecy was summarily fulfilled.

In accordance with the . . . prayer and prophetic vision, the King's firstborn, Deborah, was crowned Queen of God's New Nation by Archbishop Joshua in an extremely dramatic and colorful ceremony on September 21, 1972 . . .2

My dad intended that the Coronation bring an emotional and spiritual uplift to the London disciples and the movement in general. A select group of leaders prepared secretly for several weeks to make it a glorious occasion. It took place in Bromley, Kent, a suburb of London.

An English millionaire, whose son had joined the Children of God, had given to the movement the use of a large, vacant factory. It was affectionately referred to as the Bromley Colony, and it housed from 50 to 150 disciples at a time. In it we set up a print shop, a small school, a photo lab, a large industrial kitchen, and offices for the secretarial staff. It was the hub of our European activities for a number of years. Disciples would arrive from the United States and be processed through the Bromley Factory, and from there be sent into "all the world" to "preach the gospel."

On the fateful night, more than two hundred disciples were gathered for the big event. We prepared a fantastic meal complete with turkey, potatoes, gravy, cake, and ice cream; a veritable treat for the revolutionary disciples accustomed to eating a diet consisting of starch, starch, and more starch. These were days of pioneering and expansion and sacrifice. A disciple's spiritual diet would compensate for the lack of physical diet.

But on this night the banquet tables were overflowing, and a spirit of festivity and joy filled the huge second floor of the Factory. There was dancing, music, and a great spirit of liberty and hope. The disciples didn't really know what was going to happen; everyone was simply told to be prepared for something wonderful and exciting. There was a strong feeling of suspense.

"Do you know what's going on? Why are we having this big meeting?"

"Why, I don't really know. I heard it has to do with Deborah!"

"What do you suppose that stage is for? They've been working on it all week. Mo must have gotten a heavy revelation!"

The red carpet had been rolled out; literally. To this day I don't know where they found the hundred foot roll. The lights were dimmed, and into the room marched a royal procession of the Queen and her court. Other queens, princes, princesses, lords, and ladies of our Royal Revolutionary Kingdom were in attendance, with costumes rented from a local costume shop. It looked like a scene directly out of 16th-century Tudor England; the only thing missing was King Henry himself.

My sister's husband, Joshua, had earned the title of Archbishop for the occasion, and presided over the Coronation as the personal representative of our Prophet and King. In one of my hands was placed a scepter, the symbol of my royal Power; in the other, a Bible, the symbol of God's authority.

Archbishop Joshua solemnly read the prophetic revelation Mo had received from the Lord, entitled the "Prayer For A Queen," and then crowned me with a bejeweled diadem. The Factory shook as the two hundred disciples cheered choruses of "Long live the Queen!"

My father lived in a rented house quite near the Bromley Factory. Nestled among the prim and proper homes of the quaint London suburb, he lived; a kind, retired American gentleman with his young "daughter," Maria. You would see them every evening taking a casual walk past the neatly manicured lawns and exquisite rose gardens of Bromley, Kent. It was a most beautiful and tidy English community, the ideal frame for the image my dad was attempting to portray. It was also part of an elaborate veil of secrecy and security.

Moses David had been living incognito for more than two years. There were two basic reasons for this. The first was security. My dad lived under great paranoia, always fearing for his life. It is true that there were people, especially in the United States, who would have liked to see Moses David locked up; but his fear and obsession with security were irrational. At times I feel he was trying to create an air of importance, setting himself high above his followers and the rest of the world. At other times, I think he was downright scared. As time passed, it became impossible to tell the difference.

The second reason for his life secrecy was the development of his persona as the Prophet on the Mountain. Being separated from the disciples created a sense of mystery and awe. A man perceived on paper is always more impressive than one known in the flesh. The less the disciples saw of Moses David, the more they would reverence the sacred image developed in the "Mo Letters." Only a very small percentage of the thousands of people who have joined the COG have ever met my father in person.

Anyone visiting the Bromley Factory became submerged in a sea of happy, smiling faces and greetings of "Jesus loves you!" The dedicated youth strummed emotional folk songs that stirred the imagination to "reach out and touch the hand of God"; on the streets they witnessed by the hour of salvation in Jesus Christ, Forsake All, and follow Jesus full-time. But as in every cult, appearances were deceiving. Only the Royal Family knew what was going on behind the scenes, in the counsel chambers of Moses David.

The Royal Family were the only people who actually knew Moses David's whereabouts and talked to him personally. The leadership structure of the Children of God has changed through the years, (always with Moses David at the top, of course); but in 1972 it was governed by a hierarchy. Atop the hierarchy were the Royal Family; David Berg's personal family: my husband, Jethro, and I; my sister, Faithy, and her husband, Joshua; my brother Aaron; my brother Hosea and his wife, Esther; and my mother, known in the movement as Mother Eve, or simply Mother. Maria—Moses David's secretary, mistress, and full-time companion, was also a member of the Royal Family, whose place grew in importance with time.*

*In the COG we adopted new names taken from the Bible. The legal names of the Royal Family are as follows: Faithy—Faith Berg Dietrich; Joshua—Arnold Dietrich; Aaron—Paul Brandt Berg; Hosea—Jonathan Emanuel Berg; Esther—Luranna Nolind Berg; Mother Eve—Jane Miller Berg; Maria—Karen Zerby. I was born Linda Berg, but my Christian name was legally changed to Deborah by my father after the movement began.

The Royal Family commuted between the Bromley Factory and the secret house under strict security rules. Usually, we could come and go only after dark so as not to arouse the suspicion of neighbors at the sight of these unconventional people visiting the quaint American gentleman. We were always to use the same car; if perchance we came in a different vehicle, it was to be parked around the block out of view of the neighbors.

From his tidy little home, Moses David was busily engineering his worldwide Revolution for Jesus. The movement had never been stronger, and it was gaining momentum every day. However, this success was exacting a staggering toll from the personal lives of the Royal Family. By the time of my Coronation, my life was at the very least an atrocity. My marriage had been virtually destroyed, traditional Christian principles obliterated, and all ties with outside relatives severed. Only one thing mattered: The Cause! There was no place for natural affections; these more often than not got in the way and hindered the "work of God." Thus, normal friendships and relationships were rendered useless.

Given the immorality that permeated the lives of the leadership in 1972, one could hardly carry on a normal life, let alone a normal marriage. Life was anything but normal; life for the dedicated disciple of Moses David was not intended to be normal! We were in a revolution—ushering in the Revolutionary Kingdom of God! The Cause was all. My father wrote to all the disciples at that time,

In our situation, God is trying to teach us the lesson of putting Him and His Family first. [We often referred to ourselves as "the Family"]. If you cannot be trusted with a private relationship [marriage] and to keep it in its proper perspective—last—then God will break it up to insure He and His work get first place. 3

I had been slow to enter into the sexual freedom mandated for the COG. My father's concept of indiscriminate "sharing" caused me great confusion. Nevertheless, I knew I would someday need to become more "spiritual" in this matter. My father made it quite clear that any inability to "share" sexually with a brother or sister demonstrated not only the height of selfishness, but also a severe lack of spirituality. One's attitude toward "sharing" could rightly gauge a person's yieldedness to the Spirit of God. On that basis, my spirituality was in a tailspin.

Prior to the Coronation, Dad had ordered my husband, Jethro, to return to the United States to oversee the work there. This was an important move in his overall plan. At the time, my marriage of nine years was in the final stages of deterioration, and Jethro and I could no longer treat each other with kindness or respect. My loneliness, confusion, and despair led me into an adulterous relationship with one of the disciples in the Bromley Colony. This affair would prove to be disastrous in his life, a source of deep personal sorrow.

My father was keenly aware of the grief my marriage was causing me, and he began to worry about my new relationship. Not because he thought it was wrong, but because it posed a threat to his hold over me. My involvement was not "sharing." He greatly feared I would fall in love and find happiness and security, which would diminish his power over me. He was right. Only years later I realized that as long as I was fighting and unhappy with my husband, Dad was inwardly pleased. He enjoyed the conflicts and often aggravated them through his devious manipulations of people and circumstances. If my loyalty to Jethro were subverted, it would necessarily be directed toward my father. Dad well knew this fact. (False prophets cannot exist with- out total loyalty.) Marriage as an institution threatens loyalty to Moses David; through his doctrines on sex and marriage, he has destroyed the institution within the COG.

At the time of the "Queen Prophecy, " all the Royal Family members were conveniently situated in other parts of the world, with the exception of Joshua and me. It was Dad's chance to make his move: he would make me Queen. I would be exalted, honored, blessed of God—all by merit of his prophetic revelations. As Queen I would be married to the work, and to the work alone. All other relationships would be secondary.

Thus, living in adultery and watching my marriage disintegrate, I was crowned Queen of God's New Nation. Yet my reign was short-lived. In a few days I would discover my dad's true motives for the Coronation, and in a few months, Queen Deborah would be summoned to the Royal Guillotine.

One evening, a few days after the Coronation, Dad made his move. He delivered the master stroke designed to solidify my place within the Kingdom, establish my position before God, and prove my loyalty to God's King and Prophet.

I had been to his secret house for discussion and counsel. I decided to spend the night, as it was too late to return to the Bromley Colony. I was asleep when he entered. I was awakened gently.

"Deborah, Deborah, wake up, honey."

"Yes, Dad. What is it? What's wrong?"

"Honey, the Lord has given us a great deal of freedom in Christ. We mustn't look upon it lightly. God's love is all-encompassing, and to the pure all things are pure."

My stomach tightened.

"God has made me King over His New Nation, and now He has made you the Queen. God wants from each of us total loyalty and submission. As Queen, you must prove your loyalty to God and the King. God has given us all things freely in Christ Jesus, and His only law is love."

Oh, God! I thought. Is that why he has done all this?

The nightmare was all too familiar. Memories came to life of the times when Dad had made similar advances—once when I was seven, once when I was twelve. Now I was twenty-six, and Dad was attempting it again under the banner of prophetic revelation: Incest.

"But you're my dad, my father! I don't need this. I love you without this. It's not necessary to prove my love this way; I already love you. Perhaps in a few years when I'm more spiritual; I'm not spiritually ready yet." Feigning sleep, I rolled over, and he left me in peace. Peace? My mind was burning with confusion.

Dad had made me Queen, set me up, all for that! I thought, Could the desire for sex, for incest, be so powerful, lust so all consuming, diseasing a person's mind so totally that he has no control over himself? Although I was not conscious of it at the time, God was bringing me face to face with the consequences of unrepented sin. Even after all these years, my father was still a slave to these evil passions and desires. For the next nine years, God would continue to confront me with the consequences of sin; but at that time I had no idea that God was even around; nor had I the slightest notion of what God deemed right or wrong. Life was becoming a jumble of sordid experiences held together by the framework of religious acts.

Why does he want this so? I wondered. Since I was only seven years old. I was feeling terribly sick. My thoughts ran wild. What about the man I am living with? My husband? My children? My mother? Is this right? One question led to another, and my confusion turned to despair. But I know I love this man—I thought—the man with whom I was living in adultery. Love? What is love? Do I really love him, or am I just telling myself that? It was Dad who condoned the relationship in the first place. I have Mo's permission, and therefore the Lord's approval; that makes it right and not adultery. But maybe Dad only allowed it to appease me, to set me up for his incestuous desires. What does the Lord have to do with it? No! I really love this man. God is in it!

My turmoil intensified. I did not know that my life was being consumed by sin. In the COG, sin did not exist: "to the pure all things are pure." The idea of sin had been carefully removed and set aside by the doctrines of Moses David. However, the doctrines of Moses David did not rule my conscience completely. Thus my soul felt its torture.

Within a few days of that experience, I left for a month's tour of our European Colonies in Switzerland, Spain, and Italy. News of the Coronation had reached the other Royal Family members, and they were in an uproar. They wanted me out! Political jealousy flared.

By the end of October, everyone was back in London. On October 28, Dad delivered his infamous "One Wife" address to the members of the Royal Family. This would become the foundation principle for all his future sex doctrines. According to Mo—as Moses David was familiarly called—"The private family is the basis of the selfish capitalistic private enterprise system and all its selfish evils! . . . the most successful communes [referring to communal systems of the past] either abolished all private relationships entirely and required total celibacy, or abandoned the private marriage unit for group marriage." Mo was determined to see that his children and disciples would be "successful for the Lord"; not even marriage would stand in our way.

God will have no other gods before Him, not even the sanctity of the marriage god! If we broke up every so called marriage in the Revolution, and it did the work good, to make them put God first, it would be worth it! God is the greatest Destroyer of home and family of anybody. We are Revolutionary! We are . . . not even hesitating to destroy marriages that don't glorify God and put Him and His work first! Partiality towards your own wife or husband . . . strikes against the unity and supremacy of God's Family and its oneness and wholeness! 4

The institution of marriage had officially been dealt the coup de grâce. A few weeks later, I was to receive mine.

Divine retribution. My rejection of God's Prophet was not to go unpunished or unnoticed; moreover, the incident would provide an opportunity to further reveal "the Lord's direction on sex and true freedom." The entire Royal Family was gathered for a leadership meeting in Dad's pretty English home in that quaint London suburb. There was a low fire burning in the fireplace as we took our seats among the couches and chairs of the downstairs living room. We were discussing general details of the work, and it seemed like a normal meeting. Then Dad started in:

"The churches have gone astray in their puritanical interpretations of the Scriptures. God has been showing us the wonders and beauty of the freedom He has given us. Sex is one of God's greatest gifts to man, and we are free under grace to enjoy the liberties of sexual freedom. To the pure all things are pure. But there are some here who are and have been resisting the Spirit of God! And God won't have it!"

I knew it was coming. Instinctively I stifled my emotions. My mother hung her head. She too knew a traumatic session was in the making.

"In the Bible, " Dad continued, "God makes many exceptions to His rules. How do you think Adam and Eve propagated the human race? Who do you think Cain took as his wife?—he took one of his sisters, of course! And what about Lot and his daughters? It says that Lot had intercourse with his daughters, and God made a great nation out of them. If we take a closer look at Scripture, we find that in some special situations, God breaks His own rules."

He railed for hours, citing Scripture after Scripture to prove his point. Then he turned his attack directly against me. Because I had refused my father's desire for an incestuous relationship, I had in effect refused to accept him as God's Prophet. The Prophet did not act selfishly or for his own personal design or pleasure—it was always under the direct inspiration of the Almighty. I had rejected the counsel of the Lord. I was no longer worthy to be called Queen. It was, indeed, my little sister, Faithy, who was the rightful Queen—she had never rejected my father. It was revealed in front of all present, for the first time, that from her early childhood, she and my father had practiced incest. It was she who reverenced him as a true Prophet. I was rebellious and selfish—I had always rejected him. Consequently, the newly crowned Queen Deborah lost not only her title, but figuratively her head as well.

I was demoted, removed from all power and authority, ordered to be subservient to all present, and stripped of my right to the throne. I had lost the birthright because of my rebelliousness. My dad said he would never give me a chance to be restored. My adulterous relationship with the man at the Bromley Colony was also terminated, although no one present knew that I was pregnant with his baby. All these were conditions of God's wrath being poured out upon me via His Prophet.

I sat quietly through this session, showing little emotion. Inside I was seething: I hated my father. He had ruined everything I held dear in my life. How can he be so perverted, so selfish? I looked at my mother and wondered how she had put up with this kind of thing all these years. There she sat, in stunned silence. How could she? I wasn't going to take it; not this time! What was the point of going on? I would never be happy as long as I was living under my dad—but there was no way to get away from him. To whom would I go? I had no one to turn to. I determined what to do: Like the warriors of Masada, I would snatch the victory from him.

I will not get emotional, I told myself as his tirade continued unabated. I will not explode. I will act repentant and sorrowful. When the meeting is over, I will go quietly to bed and then sneak out in the early hours of the morning. I will leave this horrible house and never, never return!

London at four o'clock in the morning is a very cold, rainy, and lonely place for the banished daughter of a prophet. I had escaped undetected with a few pounds in my purse; enough to last a couple of days in a cheap hotel. It is hard to relive such moments, but today I can be thankful for God's merciful hand that kept me alive. I had come to the edge of life itself in that lonely hotel room. I was standing at the brink. Only four months later, my brother Aaron would also stand at that brink. His body was to be found at the bottom of a cliff just outside Geneva, Switzerland.

I had fully intended to commit suicide when I fled my father's house; yet I could not do it. I look back upon these events and ponder. What was that restraining force within me? Was it God? The will to survive? Faith? Was it concern for my children? All I know is that as much as I considered suicide, I just could not accomplish it. How was it that my brother could?

I spent four days alone in that tiny hotel room. For four days the spiritual battle raged. I ate nothing. I told myself I would never return to that house, or to my father, or have anything to do with the COG again. I thought about going back and telling my father he was wrong. Hatred stirred at the thought of what he was doing, what he had tried to do to me. I wanted to confront him. A part of me told me that he was wrong; and if that were true, it meant God was on my side, not his.

As I struggled with these doubts, my mind became more clear, more sane than it had felt for years. But then the flood of circumstance consumed me. Whether from fear, or confusion, or my indescribable state of lostness, I concluded that I could not fight my father. What would happen to my children? I knew that if I confronted Dad, I wouldn't stand a chance of winning. He knew just the right buttons to push, what weak points to attack, how to get through any defenses. By the time he'd finish with me, I would believe that he was right, and I totally wrong. No, to enter his arena was impossible.

When I finally decided to resign my will, to give in and go back, I lost all desire to fight. What little fire had burned in my conscience was extinguished by the resignation of my will. I saw no alternative but to surrender.

By that time, there was bedlam among the Royal Family. They were scared. Dad was worried that I might have taken my life. I agreed to let Joshua come and see me. He brought with him a personal letter from Dad: "Oh, my dearest . . . God has a place for you . . . I was hasty . . . So sorry . . . Too much pressure . . . Continue your relationship . . ."

My dad's plan to gain total control over me and begin his long-desired incestuous relationship had backfired. Moreover, he had a mutiny on his hands because of it. My brothers and sister and husband were furiously jealous over the Coronation. My demotion as Queen was the perfect tranquilizer. I think my dad actually enjoyed those family mutinies. He methodically twisted words in order to pit us one against the other—like rats fighting over the carcass of another rat. He would purposely wound a specific member of the Royal Family, then stand back and watch the others devour it. If he could keep us fighting and divided, he could keep us loyal to him, and his power secure.

I was seeing the naked truth of this for the first time; the viciousness, the perversion, the intense jealousy, the evil lust for power.

Yet I returned knowingly to all this. The circumstances had not changed. There was method in all of my father's madness; this I now painfully knew to be true. But where can I go? I rationalized. I had conquered the battle over physical suicide alone in the hotel room. But in going back, I had lost an even greater battle: I was committing spiritual suicide.

Purposefully, I placed myself in a mental box. I would accept reality only to the limits of that box; beyond that, I would accept or see nothing. I would bide my time. Fate alone would determine the course of my life.

Insanity, suicide, and emotional destruction had been deflected. My box afforded me suitable protection. Yet what lived inside that box? I was a person out of time, without reality, without foundation, without feeling. I floated in space like a weightless capsule. God and the reality of Jesus Christ had ceased to exist; love was a myth; sex a nightmare of assorted perversions. Right and wrong had been sucked side by side into the vacuum of antinomianism; I had transcended the gravity of moral law. I had entered the outer limits of hell.

PART ONE

Chapter 2

The Inheritance

When we are in an unhealthy state physically or emotionally, we always want thrills. In the physical domain, this will lead to counterfeiting the Holy Ghost; in the emotional life, it leads to inordinate affects on and the destruction of morality; and in the spiritual domain, if we insist on getting thrills, on mounting up with wings, it will end in the destruction of spirituality. 5

The record shows that the Children of God movement started in Huntington Beach, California. The movement, in a physical sense, was conceived in 1968 around the activities of the Huntington Beach Light Club, a small mission/coffee house; but in principle, the Children of God started long before; the seeds of its philosophy germinating during the childhood days of my father, David Berg.

David descended from a long line of sincere Christian men and women, some of them notable pastors and evangelists. In 1745, thirty years before the American Revolution, three brothers—Adam, Isaac, and Jacob Brandt, set sail for the Colonies from Stuttgart, Germany. They were German Jews who had accepted Christ as their personal Savior. Their orthodox Jewish family had rejected them, declared them "dead, " and buried them in mock funerals, as was the Jewish custom. So the brothers struck out for the Americas in hopes of finding a new life, and the freedom to live their Christian faith. As peace loving Mennonite farmers, they settled in Pennsylvania and later moved to Ohio.

The most notable of David's ancestors, John L. Brandt, was born in Somerset, Ohio, in 1860. He began teaching at the age of seventeen, and lecturing and preaching at the age of twenty-four. He experienced a life changing dedication to Jesus Christ when he was in his early twenties, and subsequently became a minister in the Methodist Church.

David's grandfather seemed to be a man destined for success. He soon gained the position of president of Virginia College, and through his writings and investments, he became a millionaire. He joined the Campbellite movement of the Disciples of Christ in his later life, becoming one of the outstanding leaders of that movement, now known as the Christian Church. He was personally responsible for building and pasturing some fifty churches, and he authored sixteen books in his lifetime.

John L. Brandt's daughter, Virginia—my grandmother—was raised in an atmosphere befitting the child of a wealthy minister. She was still a child when her father grew in fame as a popular lecturer, traveling more than four hundred thousand miles through the United States, Mexico, Canada, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Pacific islands. Virginia accompanied him on many of his tours. Because of her culturally enriched background, she was a very sophisticated and learned young lady. However, her relationship to Christ and Christianity was somewhat formal, despite the intense faith of her father.

By her early twenties, this life of excitement, wealth, and pleasure had left Virginia Brandt empty and disillusioned. Her discouragement was turning to despair when a crisis engulfed her world: the death of her mother. Virginia was attending a party at the home of General Winfield Scott when depression overwhelmed her.* On the brink of suicide, she remembered the counsel her father had often given others: Instead of throwing your life away, why not give it to some good cause.

*This was not the prominent figure of the Mexican War of 1846-48, for he died in 1866. Rather, this general may have been a descendant of "Old Fuss and Feathers."

She did. Virginia Brandt became the Field Secretary for the National Florence Crittenton Mission. With the inherited determination and aptitude of her dynamic father, Miss Brandt engaged all her efforts into advancing the cause of the mission and helping the lost and wayward girls of the nation. It was said of her: "She is worth her weight in gold anywhere. She did most effective personal work in the homes and on the streets, and her consecration and Christ-like spirit were imparted to all who came to know her." She became one of the mission's most industrious speakers, traveling the country, speaking on behalf of the movement, and raising vast amounts of money for the establishment of the Crittenton Homes. In 1910 Charles Crittenton described the character of my grandmother in the following letter:

This will introduce to yourself and workers, Virginia Lee Brandt, who is in the service of the National Florence Crittenton Missions. We send her to you with a hearty "God Speed" and trust that you will give to her all co-operation. She is most worthy of your love and care. Any work that you will entrust to her will be done with dispatch and thoroughness. She is thought to be one of the best woman speakers in the States and is a conscientious and able missionary.

It is an inspiration when we have young girls in our work whom God is making a success, and I thank Him from the depth of my heart that he has raised up Virginia Lee Brandt to work in this corner of His Vineyard.

Eventually Virginia planned to marry. She was engaged to Bruce Bogart, the wealthy cousin of Humphrey Bogart. But while at- tending a special party given in her honor in Ogden, Utah, where she had built her last Crittenton Home, she met Hjalmer Berg, a handsome Swedish tenor enlisted as part of the musical entertainment. Virginia fell instantly in love with him, whereupon they eloped.

It wasn't long before Hjalmer Berg dedicated his life to the ministry under the influence of his new father-in-law, and enrolled in theological seminary in Des Moines, Iowa. Hjaimer was ordained a minister in the Disciples of Christ.

In 1911, while my grandfather was still studying for the ministry, Virginia Brandt Berg bore her first child, Hjalmer Jr; but as she was coming home from the hospital with her newborn infant on a cold December day, tragedy struck. My grandmother describes the experience in her book, The Hem of His Garment:

It was Christmas morning and the hospital was alive with visitors and agog with excitement. Some were going home; others were joyfully greeting loved ones who had come long distances to spend the holidays with the sufferers. I was begging the doctor to let me go home for the Christmas holiday days.... After much pleading, the doctor, against his better judgment, gave orders to get me ready.

My heart was simply thrilled at the thought of home, husband, Christmas! There was a deep mantle of snow on the ground, and I exclaimed at the beauty of the trees, as their snow-laden branches reached out, glistening white, in the sunshine. I had always loved Christmas better than any other day. And home! We were almost there now—just in sight of the house—how good it looked!

But—how strangely God works! How swiftly, unexpectedly, tragedy can come stalking across Life's path. . . .

For just in sight of the little home almost there, there was an accident. I was thrown, and my back, hitting the curbstone, was broken in two different places. . . . 6

The doctor's verdict: "She is paralyzed from the waist down; I can find no reflexes here at all." What followed was, in Virginia's words, "five years of awful agony, suffering, and heartbreak—years of intolerable pain, isolation, and loneliness—years that seemed endless with hopelessness and despair." X-rays showed that her back had been broken in two places, and that the crushed vertebrae were pressing on the spinal cord. A team of nine physicians and surgeons operated and removed the bone covering the spinal cord. This left an eight inch portion of the spinal cord exposed and unprotected by bone.

For months, Virginia was compelled to lie perfectly still until cartilage grew over the spinal cord. The operation brought a partial restoration of life to the lower part of her body which had been paralyzed; but because of her weakened condition, she suffered a complete collapse, and did not recover from the effects of the operation for several months. Then followed five years of invalidism. Her husband, Hjalmer, testifies in the same book,

For over five years she was a helpless, hopeless, invalid, lying on rubber cushions, weighing only 78 pounds, her body emaciated and her face gaunt; unconscious most of the time towards the last—an intense sufferer—a hopeless case, absolutely given up by the physicians. 7

At the end of her five-year ordeal, her health was so far gone, that it seemed she would die. She was "fast going stone-blind," and it looked as if she would not make it. Then a miracle happened. For years, she and her husband and many friends and loved ones had prayed for her healing. One Saturday in Ukiah, California, Virginia Berg was instantly healed:

And at that very moment I was healed! At that very moment the Lord let me see that for which I had been believing. The paralysis had gone from my body! I felt cool and rested and sat upright in bed!

I walked that floor, it seemed, the happiest woman in the world. The burden of sickness, sorrow, and sin had all been lifted from my life! I had not only been born again spiritually, but I felt I had been made again physically. 8

The next day Virginia walked into her husband's church "from deathbed to pulpit, " giving testimony to what God had done for her.

This is the story I was told all my life.

As a result of her healing, my grandmother and grandfather eventually broke with the Disciples of Christ, because the church did not believe in faith healing or in women preachers. This also caused a serious rift in her relationship with her father; thereafter there was very little communication between them.

Mr. and Mrs. Berg began working on their own as itinerant evangelists, giving the testimony of grandmother's miraculous healing and encouraging church congregations that God could do the same in their lives.

In March 1925, the Bergs arrived in Miami, Florida. A year later, the newspaper headlines proclaimed: "FAITH—WOMAN—BUILDS CHURCH FOR ALLIANCE: Rev. Virginia Brandt Berg Credited With Tabernacle Success.". The article reads:

She came for a revival on March 22, 1925. After the series of meetings, she was asked to remain permanently. Now one year has passed. Alliance tabernacle has been dedicated. The auditorium has a seating capacity of 4,500. The building is said to have the best acoustics of any structure in the south.

The "power behind the throne"—Mrs. Virginia Brandt Berg—is the daughter of the Rev. John L. Brandt, preacher, author, and lecturer of Muskogee, Okla. She comes from a family of preachers, and is rearing another family of preachers. Mrs. Berg is the mother of two boys and one girl.

The older boy is already studying in the Alliance Bible college at Toccoa Falls, Ga. Little David has preached at the tabernacle several times, and will enter the ministry as soon as he is old enough. The girl will follow in her mother's footsteps.

. . . She married the Rev. H. E. Berg, who was active in the work of the Christian Church in Texas and Oklahoma. Then the case of Paul and Barnabas was repeated. Mr. Berg stepped back and let Mrs. Berg do the preaching. Now she is pastor, and Mr. Berg is her associate and director of Bible study.

By April 26, 1931, six years after the Bergs moved to Miami, the newspaper headlines read: "WOMAN FOUNDS MIAMI CHURCH: Alliance Tabernacle, Started in Tent, Has One of Largest Congregations." The article reads:

A crowd of 3,000 hushed persons sits in a vast, wooden auditorium, eyes glued on the figure of an earnest faced woman on a raised platform.

With a dying rustle of musical scores and instruments, an orchestra at her side composes itself to hear and not be heard.

A discreet cough is stifled as the woman on the platform raises her hand:

"The title of my sermon tonight will be 'From Deathbed to Pulpit.' "

Older members of the church never tire of hearing it; new members come by the hundred to hear this exposition on the faith of a woman in the healing power of the Lord—a faith which often packs her tabernacle seating some 7,000, with followers. "Though not affiliated with any other church in the country, the tabernacle follows the religious principles of the Christian Missionary Alliance.

My grandmother traveled extensively during her days with the Tabernacle, holding revivals and rallies with the "Berg Evangelistic Dramatic Company." She was as popular in many cities of the country as she was in Miami.

Eventually, Virginia lost her place at the Tabernacle through a series of events that remain unclear. During the Depression, the Tabernacle was unable to meet its financial obligations, my grandmother was forced out, and leadership was assumed by someone else. She went on to start another church in Miami known as the Central Alliance Church of the Open Door; she went on from that church to become an itinerant evangelist full-time, lecturing, preaching, and holding revivals in churches throughout the United States.

This is the environment in which David Berg grew up, along with his older brother and sister, Hjalmer Jr. and Virginia. My father was born on February 18, 1919.

David Berg was drafted into the army in 1941 during World War II. He was discharged, however, because of a serious heart condition. In 1944 he met my mother, Jane Miller, in Los Angeles. The "Berg Evangelistic Party, " now comprising grandmother, grandfather, and David, was holding a revival meeting in the L.A. area. Jane and David met at the Little Church of Sherman Oaks, where she was working as a secretary and helping with its youth program. During the revival, they fell instantly in love. They eloped and became Mr. and Mrs. David Brandt Berg on July 22, 1944, in Glendale, California.

David did not consult either his mother or his father about the marriage; nor did Jane send word to her family asking permission or even seeking counsel. This was not in keeping with the character of her warm and loving Kentucky family. Raised in a fine Christian home of Baptist background, one simply did not get married without the approval of family. Failing to inform Jane's parents of the marriage plans was but one early sign of David Berg's rejection of authority that can be traced through his entire adult life.

After his marriage, David continued to travel and work with his mother in her evangelistic ministry. He had two children by the time he finally stopped touring with his mother to become the pastor of a Christian Missionary Alliance church in Valley Farms, Arizona. He served there from 1949 to 1951. My dad built this, his first church, with his own hands. The building was constructed of old adobe blocks transported from nearby ruins. One of my first childhood memories is of riding atop those blocks in an old flatbed trailer.

Valley Farms was a turning point in my dad's life, because it was there that he began to develop a deep-seated bitterness and hatred toward the established church. This hatred of the church system would later become one of the foundation doctrines of the Children of God. Dad was expelled from the very church he had built himself. There are two conflicting stories.

My father's version is that he was endeavoring to witness to the Indians who populated a nearby reservation: "I would invite the dirty, barefooted Indians to the church service on Sunday and the 'white' members resented it. They were racist hypocrites! So they kicked me out."

Another version concerns a sexual scandal in which he was allegedly involved. Until recently, I discounted rumors of this as hearsay. However, a cousin has told me that my dad sent a tape recording to his parents in California at the time of his dismissal. In the tape he categorically denied the charge of sexual misconduct and bitterly defended his position, calling the accusation a lie.

Who knows the truth, except my father? My dad was always trying to be radical in his Christianity; this would explain why he would bring "dirty, barefooted Indians" into his church to which a white, prejudiced congregation would take offense. On the other hand, knowing my dad's sexual weakness, I believe there could certainly have been a scandal. Whatever the case, the event gave