A Scientology Field Trip

As a pastor for a smallish congregation in a small town I get rather excited when a visitor comes into our building to see who and what we are.  I am eager to answer their questions, to show them around, and to introduce them to others in our group.  I also try to find out who they are, and why they've come to us. I hope to get to know them, and though I will probably forget their name (because I'm forgetful like that) I ask.

I want to try to make a connection to whoever comes in through our doors.  I expected something similar when I visited a Scientology center this afternoon, but it didn't happen.

I had to do some travelling today - a trip that would take me through Minneapolis.  And since I have been reading about and digging into Scientology and Dianetics and L. Ron Hubbard, I thought should get out of the library, out of the books and actually visit one of their churches to meet some of their members.  So I left a couple hours earlier than I originally planned so that I could swing by the Scientology center in downtown Minneapolis.

When I walked through the doors, I was -slowly- greeted by a young man at the front desk. He said hello and asked my name.  I told him and stuck out my hand to shake, out of habit. And for a moment he just looked at me and then at my hand and then back at me.  Then he stood and wiped his hand on his trousers and shook my hand. 

I explained (after he asked) that I had read Dianetics at my local public library and had become interested in the science and tenants of Scientology, and that I was dropping by to find out more.  He then lead me to a table piled with books and DVDs and launched into a sales routine for Dianetics and a companion DVD set.

This, I expected.  Sorta'.

I've read enough now to realize that much of the "Church" of Scientology's work is in marketing, but -based on my church experiences - I didn't think that a sales pitch would be the first thing offered to someone who's come in from the street. 

I explained that I wouldn't be buying anything (economics being what they are these days, I don't have a huge surplus of funds) but that I still wanted to know more about the organization and their teachings.  But getting my host to tell me more was like pulling teeth.  I had to ask and push and prod.  I had to lead the conversation.

I asked about the "free stress test" as advertised in the window and on their web site.  My host grimaced and looked around for another staff member.  He called out to another gentlemen in the back, but he was busy.  Reluctantly he led me over to the E-meter that was sitting on display and began my free stress test.

It didn't take me long to realize that I could goof the E-meter's readings. I could cause the needle to swing to the right (indicating stress) or I could make it hover in the center (indicating no stress).  Though I think that my host caught me towards the end. "Are you squeezing the cans?" he asked.  So much for this "religious artifact." 

After that he really seemed like he wanted to get me out the door, but since I would be paying for parking in the city parking garage, I wanted to get a little more for my time.  I decided to push my luck a little bit.

I asked - in all sincerity and without malice or mockery  - about the jabs and jokes made by people about Scientology.  I asked specifically about the South Park episode that makes fun of Scientology.  "What is it that they're making fun of?  Are they just making stuff up?" I asked. 

My host looked confused. "You can ask me about the things that they've said." 

"Well," I continued, "what about space aliens throwing people into volcanoes millions of years ago?  Are they making that up?"  I asked.
"There's nothing about aliens or throwing people into volcanoes" he answered.  "I've been a member my whole life and I've never heard anything about this."  he said.  "There's a volcano on the cover of Dianetics but that's it.  It's just the cover.  It's just a symbol."

I let it go at that.  Maybe he was telling the truth.  Maybe he hasn't reached those upper levels where one is initiated into the secrets of Xenu.  But it's common knowledge (or at least it's getting to be) that there is this kind of 'science fiction' material at the core of Scientology.  To deny it seems disingenuous at the least.

I moved the conversation away from the sensitive Xenu issue and asked about his own experience.  He said he'd been a member his whole life, raised by parents who are also Scientologists.  "When," I asked, "did you realize for yourself, choose for yourself that you wanted to be a Scientologist?"

He told me about his college experience, and an unsatisfactory internship - and then pointed me toward another book, The Way to Happiness.  He then, rather awkwardly, transitioned the conversation to accounts of how this book has been the direct cause of decreasing crime rates in the country of Columbia and in Los Angeles.  "All the police have read it and the crime rates have gone through the basement," he said.

Moving on he told me about Scientology's NARCONON program and gave me a handful of pamphlets about it, all the while moving me towards the door.  I tried to stall by asking about the services held on Sundays, (what church WAITS for visitors to ask about Sunday services?)

Realizing that I was about done, I thanked him for his time, for taking a few moments to talk to me and to tell me about his life.  And again, I stuck out my hand to shake.  I wanted to be personable.  I wanted to connect with him, even if I wouldn't be buying any of his material or taking his auditing sessions.  And again, he seemed reluctant to shake my hand.

I don't think that I smelled bad. Maybe I did.  Maybe he just has a thing about touching people. I don't know.  But, I thanked him again, and walked out the door, down the street to the parking garage and continued on my way. 


- I also want to thank all those Anonymous visitors who've stopped by my little blog here in the past couple of days.  Your visits are appreciated.