In this section of Cult Fiction, we look at a brief synopsis of four particular elements of the Neocatechumenal Way's methodology.
The first of these elements is the convivence. "Convivence" is an English Neocat neologism that comes from the Spanish "convivencia," itself derived from the verb "convivir," which means to live together, cohabitate, or coexist. Convivences are actually a regular part of life in the Way, but in this section, Moorhouse is drawing attention specifically to the initial convivence. This occurs over a weekend (usually Friday evening to Sunday evening) following the fifteen sessions of introductory catechesis. At the end of this weekend, attendees will be divided up to form new small communities. Moorhouse calls this experience:
...a crescendo of feelings and new experiences that is designed to trigger something in you to become very deeply and incisively involved, not in your parish, nor in the Church, but in the Way. (Cult Fiction, p. 13)
While I did personally attend the initial catechesis, I was unable to attend the convivence due to a scheduling conflict. A friend of mine attempted to attend - signed up, showed up at the hotel suitcase in hand, totally ready to go - but was ultimately turned away. He was told he was not welcome. And here he had been told that God had a word for him and absolutely needed him to clear his schedule to come on this retreat! I guess God changed his mind. Or lied.
In the catechesis sessions leading up to the convivence, we were told that the estimated cost for the weekend would be about $300. For a two-night hotel stay with included meals, that's actually not horrible. However, we were also encouraged not to let money get in the way of God's call (it begins early, you see), so even if we couldn't afford it, we should still make an effort to come. I have heard (but cannot confirm) that the money to actually pay for these people does not necessarily come from the Way's own coffers, but will be guilted out of other paying attendees. "This is your brother in Christ, you need to look out for him!" Or some such drivel. I have also heard that the Way has a notorious habit of welching on their hotel bills at large, and are often horrible guests. Thus, they rarely will use the same hotel for consecutive events.
The entire "script" for the convivence weekend can be found in the Catechetical Guide, pages 297-404 in the approved English edition.
The next methodological step Moorhouse looks at is the First Scrutiny. This is another convivence weekend that occurs about two years into one's journey on the Way.
The First Scrutiny, including a full weekend itinerary, is also splendidly covered in a two-part series over on The Thoughtful Catholic (Part 1, Part 2).
One detail about the Scrutiny experience that Moorhouse mentions that The Thoughtful Catholic does not is this:
The catechists "invite" you to donate something personal, something you are particularly attached to, to someone who would neither know who donated it or where it came from. (Cult Fiction, p. 13)
This invitation (which Moorhouse rightly puts in scare quotes, because it is much more likely a thinly veiled command) likely comes as part of the Questionnaire on Idols, which puts a large focus on material wealth (as well as personal relationships, but you can learn more about that element from The Thoughtful Catholic).
Now, of course there is nothing wrong with anonymous charity. Our Lord, in fact, expressly encourages it. Freeing oneself from earthly attachments is also of paramount importance to the Christian life. Great saints (such as St. Anthony) have been moved to rigorous asceticism after hearing Christ's exhortation to the rich young man in the Gospel of Matthew. Superficially, then, there is nothing at all untoward about this invitation from the Way's catechists.
The problems ultimately stem from the Way's understanding of what constitutes "idolatry" and what one is to do to root it out. Again, we encourage you to check out The Thoughtful Catholic's treatment on the First Scrutiny linked above to see more precisely what this means.
Moorhouse concludes by saying:
Many quit at this point. But the catechists reassure the ones who stay by pandering to their egos, "not everyone is called to be salt and light. The Lord has invited you." One thus takes on the identity of a saved one, one of their Gnostic elite, who feels special to be one who is on a mission for the Church, to which not everyone is called. Subtly, the noose has begun to tighten. (Cult Fiction, p. 13)
Following the First Scrutiny, we then proceed to look at the Second Scrutiny.
Again, The Thoughtful Catholic covers this same topic in much more depth, this time in a six-part series. Reading through both accounts--one written in the UK in the early 2000s, the other written in Guam over a decade later--really gives an eye-opening perspective to the truth of it all.
It should be noted in passing that secular psychologists have been using similar techniques of group psycho-babble for thirty years. But such techniques in the secular world have been largely abandoned, even by those who pioneered them, because they have had the integrity to face up to the appalling and lasting damage that can be done to people by such methods and group dynamics. (Cult Fiction, p. 14)
The Way, very much a product of the 60s and 70s, continues unapologetically in psychological trends that have since been abandoned, even by the pioneers of those trends. Now, I'm certainly no expert in psychology, especially trends and passing fads in pop psychology. So I can't really confirm or deny the claim that secular psychology has largely abandoned and denounced the kind of methods and tactics still employed by the Way. However, the Second Scrutiny is meant to serve a very particular purpose that has absolutely nothing to do with personal improvement or salvation, so it's not like Kiko & Company care, regardless.
Finally, Moorhouse discusses tithing. Tithing, of course, is a very noble practice and Canon 222 even obliges the faithful to "assist with the needs of the Church." Of course, this assistance comes in more forms than simply financial, and a strict tithe of 10% of one's income has never been mandated by the Church. (For a couple additional perspectives on tithing, see here and here.)
Tithing in the Way, of course, looks different.
Note that one is not instructed to give ten percent of one's income to charity, or to the Church, but direct to the Way... The Way publishes no accounts, so you have no means of knowing what happens to your money. Any enquiry will be met with the objection that clearly money is for you yet another of those (you've guessed it) "idols." (Cult Fiction, p. 14)
All money directly to the Way, with the demanded trust that you simply let them handle it. No financial transparency whatsoever; and if such is requested, you'll just be accused of idolizing money.
Moorhouse goes on to describe a particularly odious financial scam. I have not heard this particular scam detailed anywhere else but in this account, but it in no way seems out of character for the types of individuals running it.
Say just for argument that you are among thirty new members at a Neocatechumenal gathering. The leaders announce a collection for some ostensibly worthy cause and urge you to be generous. You put a ten pound note in the collection. Feeling that you may have been a little more generous than most, you anticipate that when the collection is counted it will have raised between £200 and £300. Imagine your surprise then when the final sum is announced and that it is in excess of £3000! Everyone in the room assumes that he must have been exceptionally mean as everyone else must have contributed an average of at least £100! The effect of this is to put enormous pressure on you next time there is a collection to contribute a good deal more than that "miserly" £10.
However, what has actually happened is that the leaders have drawn some £3000 out of some central fund and covertly added it to the collection...
That this scam is ordered from the top cannot be doubted. How else account for reports of it from ex-members as geographically dispersed as the West Country of England and Rome! One ex-member in Rome recounted how the first time she realized what was going on was when she herself was asked to help organize this scam... She protested to a Neocatechumenal priest (sorry "presbyter") present. His advice to this scandalized soul was not to be so judgmental! (Cult Fiction, p. 14)
More generally, his point about the geographical diversity of common stories has proven in my own experience to be exceptionally proving. I have seen stories from Guam, the UK, Italy, Spain, Peru, Japan, Denmark, Australia, the United States, and other places, and the same common threads return every time. With something that widespread, you can't just dismiss stories as community anomalies or individual abuses. It's clearly an institutional thing. Not only that, but these stories are distributed across the course of many years, as well as miles. So the problems are also consistent, and do not get dealt with and go away.
The biggest focus of this section of Cult Fiction is the two scrutinies, which admittedly are the two sections we spent the least amount of time looking at in this article. This is because the analysis of these two events has already been done elsewhere with both depth and quality. By directing you to those other places (as much as we appreciate the clicks), we hope to better illustrate the truth behind Moorhouse's writing, which has been the primary objective behind this current series.
In the next section, we look at the intriguing and often-controversial "Charge of Sectarianism."
For further reading in this series, see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 8, Part 9.
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