Flirty Fishing -- The Inside Story
FFT03--DFO Copyrighted August, 1995, The Family, Zurich, Switzerland
God's Love Erased the Pain of a Thousand Wounds
--By Stephen
My childhood was typical enough. Born into an upper-middle class family, I spent the first 20 years of my life in Minnesota, in the northern Midwest of the United States. My greatest childhood interests were football, skiing, and television. My single special talent was in the area of academics. I attended a school for "gifted" children, and received scholarships to attend both high school and university. Like many American teenagers, I questioned the world around me and sincerely looked for a better way.
from top to bottom in six months
By the early 80s, drug use had become common among young teens in the States. I maintained that only a fool could get involved in drugs; they were such an obvious health risk, a waste of time and personal resources, etc. I was too smart for that. But at age 14, I yielded to peer pressure, and before I knew it, was headlong into the "drug scene," as it was called then. It all happened so quickly--truly surprising considering that I had always been a "good boy."
Things changed almost overnight. Aside from short intervals when I ran out of drugs and money, I spent the next five years of my life on one long, nearly continuous "high." Typically, I was stoned from the time I woke in the morning until the time I went to sleep. Needless to say, I was also subject to very unusual dreams, since most of my sleeping hours were also spent under the influence of some drug. Its a miracle that I lived through it.
I spent time in jail for arson-related crimes. I was apprehended for theft. I became involved in drug sales. I suffered serious car accidents under the influence of drugs and alcohol. I spent many nights roaming the streets of my town or "cruising" in cars, inflicting indiscriminate vandalism to vehicles, buildings, and other public and private property. The well-behaved, studious kid from suburbia had become a drugged-out, washed-out, trouble-making menace.
Three people close to me committed suicide. Another friend was stabbed to death at a drug party. At high school, I assaulted someone and harassed many of my teachers. I was suspended from school and forced to attend a drug treatment facility for counseling.
A tremendous sense of guilt began to fester inside of me, and I became very alienated from those around me. The recurring memory of one incident, a passing comment in a school hallway which lasted only seconds, haunted me for years. Let me explain.
When I first arrived at the private military academy where I was schooled, I had a reputation for being a serious student. Everyone knew that I was one of the ten recipients of the schools special scholarship. Most of the people around me shared my parents rather high expectations of what I was to become. I was going somewhere. But within six months, I had completely ruined that image. Instead, I was labeled as one of the "bad boys," the type that make mothers wring their hands when they find out their kids have started hanging out with the likes of them.
Then one day, about halfway through high school, while groping drug-dazed through the hallway at my school, eyes as red as sirens, I passed David, a 16-year-old fellow student. He stopped me and said, "Hey, Steve, whatever happened to you? You had a scholarship, you were smart, you had it all! Everybody thought you were really going to be something. But now look at you! You have totally wasted yourself!" I didnt recognize that voice at the time, but it was Gods, trying to break through the confusion I had surrounded myself with. All I could recognize then was that it was the truth, and it troubled me deeply.
I faced many bad experiences during those years, but the guilt of feeling that I had wasted my life was perhaps the most painful. I had been given so much, only to throw it all away. I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole from which I was convinced I would never escape.
attempted suicide, isolation, and the end of the road
By 19, I was telling myself that "good men die young." I didnt expect a long life. It was also around this time that I contemplated and finally attempted suicide. I tried to gas myself in my apartment, but was prevented at the last minute by an overwhelming fear of death. It seemed there was no place to turn from this growing, insuppressible feeling of guilt. No escape.
I also became introverted and shy to an absolute extreme. Attending parties and social occasions became increasingly difficult. People noticed I was uncomfortable. The more they remarked about my isolation, the worse it grew. I was not only desperately lost in drugs, but I was also accelerating downward mentally and emotionally.
One evening during my first year at university, following a particularly bad drug trip, I decided to read the Bible. Raised as a Catholic, I had attended church for years when younger, but it never seemed to get through to me. Now I was desperate for help--any help. "Any," at that time in my life, included Zen Buddhism, communism, vegetarianism, the ancient religion of the Mayan people, fine arts, American folklore, Charles Manson, the Grateful Dead, meditation, yoga, and many other interests. The Bible fell amongst many thorns (see Matthew 13:22).
Midway through my sophomore year in university, I decided to try to stop taking drugs. The end of my first drug-free week in nearly six years was a milestone which I remember clearly to this day. Then it was two weeks. Finally a month. By the end of one month, my change was beginning to create a stir on my small, quiet campus, as everyone that knew me well had considered me a hopeless case.
After nearly three months without drugs, I started to feel that since I was doing so much better, perhaps I could take drugs again. Id keep it under control this time. I would only be a "recreational" user. I was kidding myself. This time around, it nearly killed me.
Before long, I lost my mind while hallucinating on an overdose of LSD at a concert. That night I was found naked and unconscious in a ditch. I was rushed to the hospital by ambulance and placed in intensive care.
I awoke in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown and a "John Doe" identification bracelet. A sheriff stood watch at my bedside. My body had survived, but the experience crushed my spirit. Just days before, I had proudly assured my mother that my years of waywardness and drug addiction--which she had painfully endured with me--were over. My life was turning around, I said; she had her only son back.
As I lay in that hospital bed, an overwhelming feeling of condemnation engulfed me. Until that moment, I had always somehow managed to convince myself that I could bounce back from anything; that somehow, when the chips were down and my back was against the wall, I could turn my life right-side up again. Now, any last vestige of such hope had vanished.
I had no money, no clothes, and was hundreds of miles from home. The most horrible things I had ever imagined doing or becoming had come true!--And it was far beyond my power to change any of it. The Bible says, "With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible" (Mark 10:27). I did not know that principle then, but in my own way I began to come to grips with the fact that I was in a predicament from which I could not free myself.
To those who know and trust in Jesus, such a realization can bring on wonderful feelings of peace, contentment and cessation from self-struggle, knowing that God does not expect us to be able to save ourselves. "He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. He shall deliver the needy when he cries; the poor also, and he who has no helper" (Psalm 103:14; 72:12). But to me, who did not know God, it was the most painful experience of all: to perceive that life as a whole is good, that it is to be enjoyed and count for something, that there are others who are thriving and content, but that I had forfeited my chance. I had been dealt a winning hand, but had played like a fool and lost it all.
grasping at a thread of hope
Desperate for a way out, I was ready to grasp at any thread of hope. At that time, my university offered an overseas exchange program for one year of study in Tokyo. I applied indifferently, never expecting to be accepted, and certainly never imagining I would ever really go to Japan.
In spite of five years of daily drug use and the serious mental and emotional problems which resulted, I, like many others around me, had managed to play the game of keeping up respectable grades in school and college. One may question whether or not this is actually possible, in light of the extent of the serious problems I have outlined. I can only remark that while report cards may have indicated a degree of "normalcy," an entirely different picture could be drawn from my arrest records, court documents, hospital records, probation logs, drug treatment center files, ambulance reports, and school suspension orders. But unfortunately, those looking for the leaders of tomorrow seemed more concerned with my ability to retain head knowledge than to maintain any semblance of a decent life.
Believe it or not, during my years on drugs I somehow also managed to exist in society, and even held various jobs to support my habit, though none for very long. But this doesnt say much for someone who a few years earlier placed in the top one to five percent in national aptitude tests. And while I may have been able to put up a front to my teachers and employers, my friends and close associates knew the painful truth about me.
Well, I was accepted for participation in this foreign exchange program. Somehow the financial obstacles were overcome and I arrived in Tokyo. Orientation was a trying experience. Forced to attend a program designed to make me feel closer to my fellow students, I was miserable and only wanted to be alone.
Two months into the school year I received a devastating phone call from home. In despair, one of my closest friends had shot and killed himself in his university dormitory. Once again I contemplated suicide myself, but backed out at the last minute. If Id had access to any source of drugs in Japan, I surely would have taken them.
light at the end of the tunnel!
Shortly thereafter, I again came to the end of my rope. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, I prayed, "Whoever is up there, if anyone is up there, if there is any truth, any purpose, any reason for this life, show me and I will dedicate whats left of my wasted life to that truth." I had no other reason to live.
The long search came to an end that night in my dormitory room.--Somehow I knew the answer was in Jesus.
I would have been willing to accept the truth whether it came from Buddha, Krishna, or any other source--but it was Jesus! Somehow I knew it was Jesus! When I awoke the next morning, I couldnt stop thinking about Jesus. And there was this smile. I was even a little embarrassed because it was so big--far too big to hide. I hadnt smiled a genuine smile in years. I bought a Bible that same day, and with it came this unshakable reassurance that told me I was "home."
I was so sure of what I had found that I began getting rid of my weird music tapes and other strange items I had collected, and started to tell others about Jesus. As a Catholic, I had never known the personal connection that I now felt with Jesus, so I went to Protestant churches hoping to find "real" Christians, and was soon baptized. Some of the folks I met there could relate to my experience, but overall I became disillusioned by the lack of commitment. All too easily, they blended their life of faith with an otherwise secular lifestyle--career, family, security, leisure, etc. Most could only be distinguished as Christians not by what they did for the Lord, but by the things they didnt do, like drinking or smoking.
As you might gather from my story so far, Im the type who likes to try everything! I tried various denominational fellowships, non-denominational churches, evangelistic meetings, Campus Crusade for Christ, and even dabbled in Christian volunteer work, such as feeding vagrants at Tokyos major train stations. I even coordinated a small Bible study group at my university.
back to square one
But after six months I was once again in a state of some confusion. The night that I first found Jesus, I really thought that I had found the answer, a key that was going to solve all my problems. But now I was muddled. Was Jesus just another hoax? A half answer? After all, if He was so real, why werent these other Christians dropping everything else to serve and live for Him? Why was I suddenly being hooted down as a fanatic just because I dared to raise questions like, "Why strive to go further in this world? Why not just live for Jesus?"
During this time I was also still carrying a load of grief and guilt over my shameful past--including incidents too gory and too embarrassing to tell here--which I had never been able to confess to anyone. I knew in theory that Jesus had forgiven me for my sins, but felt that somehow these few secret sins I had never told anyone werent included in the "package deal." This question ate away at me, until finally I mustered up the courage to tell someone whom I felt was about the strongest Christian I knew. He was a dedicated missionary who had taken me under his wing, but the things which I told him were too much, even for him. From that day, he began to distance himself from me. Once again I was flooded with feelings of self-doubt, guilt, and confusion. I felt I was back to square one.
freed from guilt by true love and understanding
My one-year stay in Japan was almost up and I faced a major decision. I was looking forward to getting back to the States to continue my education. On the other hand, I had been offered a well-paying job teaching English to Japanese businessmen. Should I stay another year in Japan? As I sat in the university library, pondering this question, out of the blue I was reminded of that day I woke up all smiles and gave my life to Jesus. How was it that in such a short time I had become like those "luke warm" Christians whose lack of commitment had so disappointed me?
Suddenly I had this urge to ask God what He wanted me to do with my life. I was as desperate as ever, but I dont think I really expected Him to answer. If He didnt, I reasoned to myself, I was off the hook and free to make my own plans. I headed for a nearby park to pray.
The Bible says, "Before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear" (Isaiah 65:24). That is exactly what the Lord did for me that day. Almost as soon as I sat down, a young teenage boy approached me and kindly offered me what I learned later was a piece of Gospel literature printed by the Family. A few minutes later, the boy introduced me to his mother, Carol. She had joined the Family with her son about eight years previously. They just "happened" to be in the park that day, contrary to their previous plans.
Having now looked into quite a few other Christian groups, I had developed little methods of testing just how sincere they were. I saw them several times over the next few days and was finally convinced enough to confide in Carol those things which I had confessed only once before. I braced myself for the same rejection.
As long as I live, Ill never forget those next few moments. She listened patiently and sympathetically to my story, but when I came to the point of confessing my "secret sins," I just couldnt get it out. I didnt need to. She read my mind--or my heart--and guessed them. When I expressed my fear of being rejected or looked down on, her reply was simple, but profoundly sincere: "After youve been so honest with me about such personal things which hurt and affected you deeply, I could only love you more, not less!"
Although I had been a Christian for the previous six months, I was, by nature, a true skeptic. I had an eye for spotting insincerity and sham, but there was simply nothing contrived about Carols reaction. It was a pure, simple, statement of fact. To her, nothing of my past mattered. Instead of the rejection I had been met with previously, I felt a special genuine love which melted away all my fears and phobias. I had never experienced such love. It was obvious to me in that moment that the Lord was using Carol, and it was He who was communicating this point to me.
I was left with the profound realization that Jesus loved me in spite of all that I had ever done. The pressure and burden of many years was gently lifted and I was at peace and rest. In my heart was the reassurance that Jesus loved me in spite of even the worst of my sins, as well as a very special love towards Carol as the one who the Lord had used to show me this. But while I was now at peace, these prolonged battles with my conscience had left me weakened and almost completely without a sense of self worth.
a sexual experience with a life-changing effect!
Much of my past guilt stemmed from confusion regarding sexuality. After a stern Catholic upbringing, my drug years led me into a world of promiscuity and indiscriminate sex, which I found equally unfulfilling. In the Protestant churches I felt uneasy with the often unspoken but clearly evident opinion that sex was somehow inherently "dirty" and "nasty."
Several days later, partly out of a desperate attempt to restore my completely diminished confidence, I acted upon the love I was now feeling for Carol and asked her whether her faith permitted us to make love together. To my surprise and delight, she replied that it did!
I have heard the term "sexual therapy" applied to certain forms of modern psychology, and though I really dont know what those terms describe, I can only say that my lovemaking with Carol was possibly the most therapeutic experience of my life.
It wasnt that Carol was extraordinarily sexually skillful or a mesmerizing beauty. Actually, she was much older than I, and over the few years prior to that time I had dated beautiful, sexually experienced women. I guess what so impressed me was the absolutely clean, pure attitude Carol had towards our lovemaking. Nudity and sex were suddenly completely natural, as I saw things through her eyes. We prayed together, talked, and lay in each others arms for hours in real heart-to-heart communication.
I had experienced plenty of sex, but never combined with such a pure, honest love and faith. As I recall, we made love once that evening, and again the next morning when we woke. We spent the entire following day distributing Gospel literature. Thirteen people prayed with us that day to accept Jesus as their Savior.
There was a profound realization in my heart at that time of how so many things created by God to simply be enjoyed responsibly and in moderation have become so complicated and twisted by mankind. Although one may naturally imagine the opposite, Carols very natural and simple approach to sex suddenly made sex of much less consequence in my eyes. I do not mean by this that sex became a casual or frivolous thing, but to the contrary, it took on much more meaning and a much greater feeling of responsibility. It was no longer some tool to obtain momentary self-gratification, but a means of expressing true, heartfelt love toward another.
Somehow Carols natural attitude toward making love removed the misconceptions that had been instilled in me during high school days, where the guys would brag about how well endowed they were, their real or fabricated sexual exploits, etc. Over those years I had adopted the attitude that sex was of primary importance in life, and that the goal was to develop some incredible level of sexual prowess that would leave in my wake of sexual experiences a trail of envious ladies dying to be with me again. I dont know how well others can relate to what Im expressing here, but I imagine its a fairly common delusion.
Its a bit difficult to pinpoint, but after my encounter with Carol, sex no longer occupied so much of my thoughts and energies, and fell in place as a pleasurable (but not preeminent) way to communicate shared love. In the years since then, Ive come to fully understand that sex is one of the most beautiful, God-created pleasures in life. However, in the well-rounded lifestyle God intends for us, I think its importance is rightfully overshadowed by other much more central issues, such as love and dedication to God, obeying Jesus command to tell others of His Love for them, training and caring for our children, helping those around us, etc.
understanding Jesus Love through flirty fishing
Another, and perhaps the most important and profound effect my lovemaking with Carol had for me was that it restored my lost self-esteem. Its hard for me now to adequately describe in just a few words what an amazing change this was. It was as if my purpose in life had somehow been restored. In the days prior to this experience, after opening my heart to Carol, I had learned that Jesus would never leave me and that even in my darkest hours and my worst sins, He was there and He forgave. But as I lay in Carols arms, it was as if the rest of the picture had been completed.
Jesus Himself said that loving ones fellow man is one of the two most important laws to live by, second only to loving God (see Matthew 22:37-40). While through Carols witness days earlier I had come to know that Jesus and God loved and cared for me, it wasnt until we made love that I saw that same quality of love take on human form. Just as there was an indescribable feeling of peace at knowing that God was real and He loved me, there was for me a nearly equal feeling of joy that came when, for the first time in my life, I realized that someone in this world found me worthy enough to sincerely love.
It deepened my love for Jesus by helping me begin to comprehend and believe that Jesus Love is deep enough, strong enough and enduring enough to cross any boundaries, to forgive any sins, and to reach into any heart crying out for understanding. I felt for the first time that someone really understood me. That someone was not Carol, but Jesus. It took her willingness to show me that intimate love in the form of sex, but there was no question in my own heart that it was Gods Love, working through her, that was setting me free from my past, my fears and my deep-rooted condemnation.
Im sure that sex is not the only way to express this type of love. For others, the same realization may even come during childhood, through parental love, through sibling love, through a deep friendship, etc. But I know for sure that in my case, Carols loving sexual contact with me was what I personally interpreted as the most real and meaningful gesture of sacrificial love that I could recall up until that time, and it had a profound effect that changed my life forever.
God could have used anyone, but it was the Family that was ready and willing to be part of that miracle, and it was Carol who was willing to make the sacrifice of love to show me that Gods Love was real. I was thrilled to find people who loved God and others, even me, enough to go to such lengths, and I soon decided this was what I was looking for. A few weeks later, I joined the Family.
no lure, no scam--just love!
For the record, Carol neither enticed nor lured me into a sexual mood where she then controlled me with some hypnotic, erotic power. My request to make love to her was without provocation on her part, and I imagine somewhat took her by surprise. One of the criticisms that has been leveled against the Familys past Flirty Fishing (FFing) ministry was that somehow it corrupted morals. Again, for the record, I am now a happily married man with four lovely children, believing in and living by better morals than I ever did before meeting Carol and the Family.
As to the allegations that the women in the Family somehow "captured" men through advanced sexual techniques and held them sexually captive, nothing could be further from the truth. Carol and I had occasion to make love together only that one night before I joined the Family shortly thereafter, and then a couple of times after I joined. She soon left Japan to continue mission work in another country. I did not join the Family for sex, nor have I remained in the Family for the past ten years out of some feeling of sexual enticement toward Carol or any other woman.
I know now that real, unfeigned, self-sacrificial love is the essence of the Family; its what makes me so proud of the Family and so thankful to now be a part. If, as our detractors would have one believe, the love and warmth shown by Family members, as demonstrated in a very physical way during the days of FFing, is some type of "put-on" to increase membership, then all of the people with whom I have worked and lived for the past ten years have kept up the act remarkably well--non-stop! No missed cues, no forgotten lines and no curtain breaks. And what is more important, I feel that same unqualified love from them today. To me, this is one of the most convincing proofs of Gods blessing upon the Family.
Happily, that love is contagious. I know that the love I now feel for people (both inside and outside the Family) is something that I simply did not possess before.
Just as there are many methods to teach a language, conduct a tour, or arrange a symphony, so there are many ways to communicate Gods Love. Not everyone needs to be won through Flirty Fishing--and sex has played no part in the vast majority of the millions of people the Family has won to the Lord over the years--but everyone does need love. That was the purpose I sensed through Carols giving of herself to me. Looking back on my own experience, its very clear to me that FFing was not about pretty young girls going out trying to "rustle and hustle" top businessmen into sexual traps so they would contribute big finances to the Family. As a down-and-out, nearly penniless, drug-weary, suicidal and confused student, the reality was that there was little I had to offer either Carol or the Family. As far as I was concerned, if FFing was anything, it was like a redefining of the boundaries on how far a Christian could go in showing love to someone they were witnessing to. Flirty Fishing was not so much about sex as it was about going to any length possible to help someone find the fullness of the Lords love.
a new life
There is no way of knowing, of course, what would have become of me if I hadnt had that experience with Carol. But considering my two suicide attempts and my craving for drugs, one can speculate.
To appraise an educational system, one tests the kids. To know the character of a politician, one examines the policies he initiates. To understand the nature of music, one observes the reactions of the listener. When practices or lifestyles come into question, focus on the effects they have in the lives of those involved. Jesus explained, "A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them" (Matthew 7:18-20).
In appraising Flirty Fishing, compare my former life to the one I lead today. I now spend my days visiting offices or homes, or in the streets and parks of Tokyo, telling others the simple story of Jesus Love and salvation. I have a sweet wife and four children. I have an active social life with friends of all ages, both inside and outside the Family. From time to time I am invited to speak at forums concerned with childrens educational and developmental needs, and attend academic conferences focusing on international legal and religious issues. I am in the best of health. I no longer smoke, drink alcohol excessively, or take illicit drugs. I am no longer involved in crime.
And whats more, I am truly happy! I have an unshakable inner peace in my heart. I feel secure in my faith and knowledge of Jesus. I look forward to each new day with eager anticipation.
I feel confident in asserting that the Family has had a profoundly positive effect on my life.--And like it or not, I am a product of that controversial past ministry, Flirty Fishing. I am firmly behind the Familys decision eight years ago to discontinue this ministry for the reasons stated in our printed materials on the subject, but no one will ever convince me that FFing was wrong. My own life speaks too loudly.
Copyright (c) 1998 by The Family