Lost Horizon

A dragon lives forever, but no so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys,
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more, And
Puff the Magic Dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

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This group I joined is generally referred to as ``the Local Churches,'' by those who have heard of it who are outside the group. Those inside refer to themselves ``the Lord's Recovery'' or ``the church'' most often, although they claim they won't take a name. Perhaps that irony says more than a name ever could.

People join this type of group for various reasons, but they're always seeking something. Some need cause to strive for, a truth, to give their lives meaning and purpose; perhaps they are attracted to a warm, caring, stable community; or maybe it's a group of people who share one's own values. These are legitimate human needs, and a religion is a traditional means to fill these desires. I entered ``the church'' in my senior year of high school, and when I went to Berkeley for college, I entered the ``the church life'' in full step, baptized just before I left.

I left my senior year of college, without much fanfare. I didn't tell anyone explicitly that I was leaving ``the church'' until I was gone, because I was still unsure of whether I really would until I was actually in Boston. I didn't want to cause a stir by my departure--- many of my friends considered me ``solid in the church life,'' and I didn't want to let them down, or worse, disrupt their faith.

What happened in between is involved, so I will allow the reader to choose to read those aspects that are most interesting. I want write about it so that I can have it all out in one place. I think I've come to some important conclusions about myself.


Feel free to mail comments to: muno@mit.edu


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