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Survivors share experiences of Jesus Army cult for BBC series
Survivors share experiences of Jesus Army cult for BBC series

BBC News

time2 days ago

  • General
  • BBC News

Survivors share experiences of Jesus Army cult for BBC series

A small Christian commune that aspired to create heaven on Earth grew to become a cult in which sexual and physical abuse was perpetuated in plain Jesus Army church recruited thousands of people to live in close-knit, puritanical communities in Northamptonshire, London and the of the UK's most abusive cults, it is now the subject of a new BBC documentary and trace the story from its hippy origins as the Jesus Fellowship, through the high-profile launch of the Jesus Army in the late 1980s, to its shocking collapse in the 2000s when the truth about life inside the church started to survivors have been sharing their experiences. 'It was just horrible' For John Everett, it started as a dream of community life."I always had these yearnings for a lifestyle that was different to the materialistic lifestyle," he explains."This feeling that striving for wealth didn't equate to happiness, and I didn't feel attached to material property in the way that a lot of my friends seemed to be."In 1976, aged 18, John was told that in the village of Bugbrooke, near Northampton, a Christian preacher called Noel Stanton had created a "communal lifestyle" that had attracted hundreds of young saving some money, John travelled from his home in Kent to experience it for himself and soon saw the attraction."I remember a guy called Andy out in the garden. He was doing some weeding and I remember him singing away to himself while he was doing it. "And so that was the first thing that really struck me, just how happy everybody looked. I could feel myself melting."For that life, though, sacrifices needed to be made because "any kind of entertainment was wrong," John says."So no more cinema, no more television. And from now on, I would have to stop listening to any music." Details of help and support with child sexual abuse and sexual abuse or violence are available in the UK at BBC Action Line But after some time he began to have doubts, including how children were says children were disciplined with birch sticks, which "was meant to be a loving form of correction".John says: "A young child was taken away from the dining room table to be disciplined, and we could all hear."His screams as he was hit, and on that occasion, he was hit at least six times and it was just horrible. It was... humiliating for the child. It was humiliating for everybody. Horrible."John began documenting what he had seen and heard during his time in the Jesus eventually left but was branded a "traitor" and no-one from the group was allowed to contact him. 'You're told you are sinful as a woman' The Jesus Army's headquarters was at New Creation Hall, the Grade II-listed farmhouse in Bugbrooke where Noel Stanton began visiting it with her family as a child before they moved to the village permanently in 1986, "a couple of doors down" from Stanton."You could feel his influence, actually," she says. "He didn't need to be there."Many teenagers, including her older brother, were separated from their families and housed was all part of Stanton's belief that the family of God was more important than one's biological family. Philippa says when she was 12 and 13, she became aware that a friend of about the same age was being sexually says: "You're constantly being told that you are sinful as a woman. That you're distracting men from God."You're called a Jezebel. You're belittled at every opportunity by Noel. So who's gonna believe that, you know, a man, an elder, has done those things to somebody?"But eventually, while still a teenager, she testified in court against an elder who became the first member of the group to be convicted of sexually assaulting a young said she was shunned by the leadership and fled the group before eventually founding the Jesus Fellowship Survivors the Jesus Army disbanded following Stanton's death in 2009, allegations against him of numerous sexual assaults on boys Jesus Fellowship Church ultimately disbanded in 2019 following a series of historical cases of sexual abuse. A report by the Jesus Fellowship Community Trust (JFCT), a group tasked with winding up the church's affairs, found one in six children involved with it was estimated to have been sexually abused by the is still thought that some of those accused, including 162 former leaders, may have taken up roles in different churches and Northamptonshire Police is liaising with relevant local authorities to see if any safeguarding action is required. the JFCT said it was sorry for 'the severely detrimental impact' on people's lives, and hoped the conclusion of the redress scheme would 'provide an opportunity to look to the future' for all those affected during a 50-year date, about 12 former members of the Jesus Fellowship Church have been convicted for indecent assaults and other offences. Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army is available on BBC one and two of the podcast, In Detail: The Jesus Army Cult are on BBC Sounds. Follow Northamptonshire news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.

Noel Stanton's Jesus Army: The cult urged followers to donate their 'genitals to Jesus'
Noel Stanton's Jesus Army: The cult urged followers to donate their 'genitals to Jesus'

Daily Record

time2 days ago

  • Daily Record

Noel Stanton's Jesus Army: The cult urged followers to donate their 'genitals to Jesus'

Noel Stanton turned the Jesus Army into one of the largest and most controversial religious movements in the UK - but it was later revealed to be a hotbed of abuse Charismatic preacher Noel Stanton, who started as a modest Baptist minister, went on to establish a formidable religious empire known as the Jesus Army, which concealed years of appalling abuse behind its spiritual facade. ‌ Noel Stanton was born on Christmas Day in 1926 and initially embarked on his journey as a traditional clergyman. However, in the 1970s, he transformed himself into the pioneer of an avant-garde Christian commune in the Northamptonshire countryside. ‌ His venture, initially a daring leap of faith, would later become one of the UK's most contentious religious sects. ‌ Stanton called upon his disciples to relinquish their worldly goods, properties, and even their offspring, with the promise of creating a utopian "heaven on Earth." The Jesus Fellowship Church, commonly referred to as the Jesus Army, expanded from a modest Bugbrooke congregation to a nationwide entity with a membership running into the thousands, unlike other infamous cults that remained relatively obscure, reports the Express. His adherents resided in austere communal homes, forfeiting their earnings and independence while strictly observing his increasingly stringent edicts. Public proselytising became the hallmark of the group, with vibrant Jesus Army buses and street teams donning distinctive jackets becoming a common spectacle throughout Britain. ‌ However, a darker reality lurked beneath the surface. A 1993 documentary captured Stanton exhorting his followers to dedicate their "genitals to Jesus," a statement that now resonates ominously amidst subsequent sexual abuse claims. His fixation on sexual chastity, coupled with his totalitarian grip on his followers' lives, set the stage for endemic abuse. ‌ When Stanton passed away on May 20, 2009, at the age of 82, he left behind not only a religious movement but also a community teetering on the brink of disintegration. Despite maintaining an image of success, signs of internal strife were beginning to show. His final resting place is at New Creation Farm in Nether Heyford, a site maintained through the financial support of his disciples. Following his death, distressing accusations emerged. Victims stepped forward with allegations of systematic physical, emotional, and sexual abuse that had occurred over many years. ‌ Children were reportedly subjected to harsh "rodding" using birch canes and frightening "exorcisms" aimed at casting out presumed demons. Former members have spoken out about how stringent regulations cut them off from their families and how life choices were dictated by designated leaders. In 2019, the Jesus Army was formally dissolved. Its legal entity, the Jesus Fellowship Community Trust, initiated a Redress Scheme to provide recompense to those harmed. The scheme saw hundreds reveal their experiences of mistreatment, leading the Trust to admit the "serious harm" inflicted. The new BBC documentary, Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army, provides a chilling examination of how Stanton's vision for Christian fellowship deteriorated into a prolonged ordeal. Featuring poignant accounts from those who endured suffering, it exposes a group that outwardly appeared devout yet hid profound and enduring damage. What started as a pursuit of spiritual kinship culminated in devastation for numerous individuals – serving as a grim reminder of the potential for fervent belief to be perverted into manipulation, domination, and maltreatment.

Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army review – the eye-opening tale of a national shame
Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army review – the eye-opening tale of a national shame

The Guardian

time2 days ago

  • The Guardian

Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army review – the eye-opening tale of a national shame

Nobody wants to be in a cult. That includes the people who are in cults – which is why they tend to claim they're nothing of the sort. Founded in 1970s Northamptonshire by lay pastor and self-anointed prophet Noel Stanton, the Jesus Fellowship – or the Jesus Army, as it came to be known in the late 1980s – was a case in point. And, for the 3,500 members it had accrued by the late 2000s, there was clearly something deeply appealing about the organisation unrelated to its ability to brainwash and control its followers (contraband included crisps and books). It served the needs of a certain kind of Christian: to have an accessible, welcoming church, to live communally with people who shared their values, to be given direction by a charismatic leader, to belong. To outsiders, however, it always seemed inordinately sinister. Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army is crammed with half a century's worth of British media to prove it: from tabloid articles ('Cult Crazy' ran one headline, which drew parallels with the recent Jonestown massacre) to news items (a 1970s report about the strange deaths of two members) to programmes such as 1998 talk show For The Love Of… in which Jon Ronson goggles as members explain their 'virtue names' (one man is 'watchman'; a young woman called Sarah is 'submissive'). As late as 2014, we see Grayson Perry singing along wryly with their hymns in his Channel 4 series Who Are You? The details that troubled the public imagination were myriad: for some it was the ecstatic singing and speaking in tongues; for the 1970s newsreader it was only natural to be suspicious of such a 'highly committed' and 'insular' group. Then there was Stanton, pantomime baddie-like with mad eyes, wispy grey hair and an extremely creepy smile. In footage spanning many decades, we see him preaching in an eerie whisper and spouting grotesque soundbites such as 'now we give our genitals to Jesus'. Embedded in this grim fascination was the hunch that something was seriously awry. It was. While the Jesus Army claimed to be a haven for Christians, it was actually a haven for paedophiles – including, allegedly, Stanton himself – giving them ample opportunity and permission to abuse children while making barely any effort to hide their actions. This two-part documentary gives us some sense of why the Jesus Army attracted – and perhaps even created – abusers: it was a microcosm of a fastidiously patriarchal society, it attracted those already vulnerable (Sarah joined after losing both her parents), it deliberately courted teens, it weaponised the concept of sin, it demanded unquestioning loyalty and devotion. Yet the focus here is on the victims; the programme meshes a chronology of the movement with a group therapy session involving four adult survivors. Initially, these ex-members (the Jesus Army closed down in 2019) are encouraged to process the idea that they spent their formative years in a cult. It's not until the middle of the second hour-long instalment that they discuss the abuse they suffered. As a genre, true crime can spread awareness, bust taboos and breed empathy, especially when survivors are able to articulate the impact the misdeeds had on their own lives. But this is always tempered by a certain exploitation, recasting vulnerable people's trauma as entertainment. As the camera lingers on these tearful men and women – after teasing their revelations over almost 80 minutes of nauseating tension – it feels as if the programme has failed to pull off that particular balancing act. And yet, anybody hoping to draw attention to the way sexual assault is dealt with in this country needs some kind of sensational hook; countless accounts of abuse, sickening as they are, clearly aren't enough. Alongside the shocking statistics presented – 539 members accused of abuse, approximately one in six children sexually abused, only 11 people convicted – we get an understanding of the patchwork response to these crimes. There was a relatively brief investigation by police in the mid-2010s, which began by chance and ended in frustration when the elders closed ranks; a Facebook group was set up by Philippa – who felt ostracised after reporting an abuser to the police when she was 12 – to gather testimony; and now this documentary, for all its uncomfortable use of distraught victims, which brings the scandal to a wider audience. It feels like plugging holes in a sieve. Despite all the superficial weirdness on display – watch as picturesque farmhouses are converted into nuclear family-crushing communes, as people in polyester jumpers writhe and groan on the floor, as sparsely attended raves get a Christ-based spin – the lasting message of this documentary is depressingly familiar. As a society, we do not have an effective way of bringing the perpetrators of sexual assault to justice. The Jesus Army may be a thing of the past, but this remains a national shame. Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army aired on BBC Two and is available on iPlayer.

Sitdown Sunday: Unexplained deaths and child exorcisms - inside the cult of the Jesus Army
Sitdown Sunday: Unexplained deaths and child exorcisms - inside the cult of the Jesus Army

The Journal

time2 days ago

  • Health
  • The Journal

Sitdown Sunday: Unexplained deaths and child exorcisms - inside the cult of the Jesus Army

IT'S A DAY of rest, and you may be in the mood for a quiet corner and a comfy chair. We've hand-picked some of the week's best reads for you to savour. 1. The Jesus Army Bugbrooke Chapel in Northampton. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo Philippa was only six when her parents joined the Christian cult in Northampton. She later helped to expose what went on there, including unexplained deaths, sexual abuse and exorcisms performed on children. ( The Guardian , approx 35 mins reading time) Of all the strangeness in their new life, Philippa found the fellowship's approach to family hardest. Under Stanton's rules, communal living meant renouncing your 'natural family' in favour of the fellowship's 'spiritual family'. Women were called 'sisters', men were 'brothers' and leaders were 'elders'. Philippa's parents, instead of just being responsible for their family unit, were given other duties: helping to cook and clean for the other Shalom residents, or finding new recruits. When Philippa turned 12, she was moved from the room she shared with her younger brother into a dormitory with women of all ages. Explaining this approach, Stanton would point to a passage from Matthew 10, in which Jesus said: 'I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother … A man's enemies will be members of his own household.' In the absence of the 'natural family', any adult could be responsible for disciplining children. Many did so through 'rodding' – hitting children as young as two with sticks. 'He who spares the rod hates his son,' Stanton would say, quoting from Proverbs. 2. Second life A fascinating article about how some people showing signs of schizophrenia can actually have treatable autoimmune conditions. Rachel Aviv reports compassionately on what happened after a woman with a 20-year psychiatric history was suddenly 'cured'. ( The New Yorker , approx 35 mins reading time) After reading Christine's description of her mother's case, Steven Kushner, a co-director of the S.N.F. Center, arranged a meeting with her and Mary and Angie. Mary was living at a rehabilitation center in the Bronx while she regained her muscle strength. She was reluctant to meet another psychiatrist, she told me, but she felt she needed to 'rise up to the level of my daughters' studiousness.' In October, 2024, Kushner and three colleagues came to the rehabilitation center and spoke with Mary for three hours. 'Her psychosis was gone,' Kushner said. 'There was no other conclusion. There was no way that she could have the quality of the conversation that we had and willfully suppress psychotic symptoms.' In the conversation, Mary recounted intimate details about her daughters' pasts—what they would eat for breakfast, their arguments at recess—but she made no reference to the delusional beliefs that had dominated their lives. When Angie told the doctors that her mother had sometimes prevented her from going outside, even to do homework with classmates, Mary offered a practical explanation: there was crime in the Bronx, and she worried about Angie's safety. To explain why she put a sock over the showerhead in her bathroom, she said that she'd hoped to filter sediment from the water. She seemed to have filled in gaps in her memory in a way that was consistent with her current identity, as a sane person. Advertisement 3. Empty promises? A 'Farmers for Trump' banner on a livestock trailer in Illinois days before the 2024 US presidential election. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo The Trump administration froze millions of dollars in grants already promised to farmers across 40 US states to hire migrant workers to do jobs that Americans wouldn't. Now those who voted for the US President say they're struggling. ( Washington Post , approx 30 mins reading time) The stakes were still on JJ's mind that afternoon when a neighbor stopped by his shop and, as it often did, the conversation turned to Trump's overhaul of the federal government. 'There'll be some growing pains,' said Eric Smith, who had grown up in Yuma County, joined the Navy and returned to Kirk to raise his two daughters and work the family land. 'There'll be some caught in the fray that, you know, maybe shouldn't have been caught.' JJ handed cans of Michelob Ultra to Eric and Riggin, who was patching a tire. JJ had voted for Trump in part because of the president's promises to cut spending, but he'd never imagined the cuts would target a core Trump constituency. It made no sense to JJ, who said he didn't know what DEI stood for, much less what it had come to represent. He didn't hire Otto to promote an agenda, and he didn't think the government owed him a handout. The Agriculture Department had sought out JJ and the other farmers promoting an opportunity intended to lift the whole country. 'I'd like to think a year from now, what's being done now, we see the benefits from it,' JJ said of what Trump was doing and how he fit into it. 'I would hope.' 4. Reddit The website that feels like the old internet we knew and loved- where human beings interacted with each other positively, exchanging ideas and learning new things – has suddenly become a lot more popular. But can it survive AI? ( Intelligencer , approx 22 mins reading time) For years, Reddit, which is made up of thousands of sub-Reddits moderated by volunteers, offered a centralized and streamlined alternative to the web's thousands of small and scattered forums, message boards, and independent communities. At the same time, in contrast with the much larger social-media platforms that rose around it, it looked niche. 'The word social media didn't exist' when the site was launched, Huffman says. Since then, in his telling, the company has steered away from influencer culture and growth-at-all-costs social-media scaling — 'we don't want people to be famous because of Reddit,' he says — and toward realizing 'the vision of the old web.' Another way to tell the story is that the platform largely just stayed put. In any case, as the mega-platforms merge into TikTok-clone sameness, Reddit's steady focus on giving online randos a place to pseudonymously post with one another is paying off. In Huffman's view, Reddit's growth is simply its reward for stubbornly — maybe accidentally — 'fulfilling the promise of the internet.' 5. Don't look up Artwork of an asteroid heading towards Earth. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo The alert system for defending Earth against incoming asteroids was activated for the first time in January. We know now that the asteroid in question isn't going to hit us – but what happens when we know that one will? Tomas Weber went to Nasa to find out. ( Financial Times , approx 24 mins reading time) Some planetary-defence officials and astronomers, instilled with strains of space-age idealism, hope the news of an Earth-threatening inbound asteroid or comet might spur humanity to unite to protect ourselves. But when it comes to asteroids roughly the size of 2024 YR4, too small to threaten humanity as a whole but powerful enough to incinerate a city, the truth may be somewhat bleaker. The nature of the response is more likely to depend on where, exactly, the asteroid is set to fall — whether it's headed, say, for the Panama Canal, as in the case of 2024 YR's projected impact corridor, or for a medium-sized town in, say, Venezuela. The US, as the only nation with the demonstrated capacity to nudge near-Earth objects off a collision course, is the de facto world leader in planetary defence. It has a planetary defence action plan and employs a full-time planetary defence officer. But it is not clear whether the country would be a reliable protector of the Earth. Related Reads Sitdown Sunday: 'The water had lifted the house off its pillars. It was afloat. And then it wasn't.' Sitdown Sunday: She turned her life story into a bestselling memoir - but was it all a lie? Sitdown Sunday: Virginia Giuffre's family share what happened in her final days 6. Living with PCOS The WHO estimates that between 6% and 13% of women have polycystic-ovary syndrome – or PCOS. Here, some of those with the hormonal disorder – as well as a panel of doctors – discuss their symptoms, their struggles and why it takes so long to get a diagnosis. ( The Cut , approx 13 mins reading time) The syndrome is a leading cause of infertility and is associated with the development of metabolic issues like type 2 diabetes, obesity, and cardiovascular disease as well as a heightened risk of endometrial cancer. Recent studies have even linked PCOS to cognitive decline later in life, and diagnostic rates are on the rise among younger women. While most experts think this is because there's simply more awareness around the syndrome, researchers also believe genetics and exposure to environmental pollutants — including microplastics, chemicals in pharmaceutical and personal-care products, and endocrine disruptors like pesticides — may contribute to the development of the condition. And yet, despite its pervasiveness, PCOS is still widely misunderstood, underresearched, and woefully underdiagnosed; the WHO estimates that up to 70 percent of affected women worldwide may not know they have it. …AND A CLASSIC FROM THE ARCHIVES… The MI6 building in London. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo A 2022 longread by Helen Warrell about the secret lives of three of MI6's top women spies. Though anonymised here, we now know that Ada is Blaise Metreweli, who was recently appointed the first female head of the intelligence service. ( Financial Times , approx 36 mins reading time) Four years ago, SIS launched its first television ad to recruit more women and ethnic minorities. It starts with footage of a shark weaving menacingly through the water, before panning out to reveal a much more benign scene: a woman and her young son looking at the predator from the other side of the aquarium glass. The final line is designed to dissolve the 'otherness' of spies: 'Secretly, we're just like you.' This is not strictly true. Spies aren't much like the rest of us, and working at MI6 is a distinctly strange experience. You cannot tell anyone beyond close family who your employer is, and even they are not allowed to know anything about your day-to-day activities. You are supposed to turn off your phone long before you approach headquarters, the emerald ziggurat on Vauxhall Bridge in central London. Once there, you lock it away. You have limited access to the internet. The only contact with the outside world is made via landline. Because it is not secure, working from home is extremely difficult. So while the organisation encourages flexibility, this is limited by the reality that your working hours must be spent largely in the office. The domestic admin of daily life is unusually cumbersome. Complicated transactions like buying a house are, in the words of one intelligence officer, 'a nightmare'. Note: The Journal generally selects stories that are not paywalled, but some might not be accessible if you have exceeded your free article limit on the site in question. Readers like you are keeping these stories free for everyone... A mix of advertising and supporting contributions helps keep paywalls away from valuable information like this article. Over 5,000 readers like you have already stepped up and support us with a monthly payment or a once-off donation. Learn More Support The Journal

‘We give our genitals to Jesus': The cult that promoted celibacy while covering up its own abuse
‘We give our genitals to Jesus': The cult that promoted celibacy while covering up its own abuse

Telegraph

time2 days ago

  • Telegraph

‘We give our genitals to Jesus': The cult that promoted celibacy while covering up its own abuse

Sarah left the Jesus Army 21 years ago. She has been in therapy, on and off, ever since, trying to reclaim her personality and dispense with a decade of indoctrination that saw her given the 'virtue name' Sarah Submissive and taught to suppress her 'Jezebel spirit'. But it was only while preparing to appear in a new BBC documentary about the church that she finally concluded it was a cult. In BBC Two's Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army, Sarah, now 53, is filmed in a group therapy session in Derbyshire trying to unpack her former life. She and other ex-members are seen studying a formal checklist, including points such as 'Dangerous leaders make important decisions about converts' lives'. It is a session on 'trauma theory', however, that most affects Sarah. She breaks down when the participants discuss 'appeasing, that is pleasing others to reduce harm'. She is so distressed that she gasps for breath, says she feels she is going to be sick and flees the room. It brought back memories of the excuses she made for the 'Elder' who psychologically and sexually abused her for four years from the age of 21. 'I think I just realised how I'd blamed myself really for somebody else's behaviour,' she tells the Telegraph on a video call. 'I'd told myself I'd been asking for it. It was just that realisation: they literally crushed my personality, particularly that person.' Her tormentor – whose abuse extended to 'having total control over your decision-making' – would molest her under the table while 'his wife would be sitting opposite'. The man, who was never prosecuted, was supposed to be 'my Shepherd, so looking out for me and not actually violating me'. The Jesus Fellowship was established in 1969 by the firebrand Baptist preacher Noel Stanton in Northamptonshire after he was 'visited by God and received the Holy Spirit'. This led him to favour a brand of Neo-Pentecostal Christianity that involved euphoric worship, having decided he was a prophet speaking God's will and determined to 'make the Earth tremble'. By the 1980s, it had been rebranded as the Jesus Army, and was drawing in vast numbers of young people through its camouflage jacket-clad street recruiters and warehouse a fresh-faced version of the Salvation Army, it targeted 'street kids, addicts, the poor, the homeless'. By 2001, the Army had almost 100 communal homes across the country, from London to Leicester. As late as 2014, months before the police launched an investigation, they appeared in a Grayson Perry documentary and in one of his ceramics, in the style of a medieval enamelled chest containing a holy relic. Sarah had lost both her mother and father by the age of 15 and was seeking not only a surrogate family but a faith in an afterlife, 'because I wanted my parents to be somewhere'. She was just one of thousands of converts amassed by the Army over 40 years, attracted to a dream of harmonious communal living and moral purity. Many signed the 'Celibates' Covenant' or, as Stanton put it in one of his impassioned sermons: 'Surrender the middle part of you… now we give our genitals to Jesus.' The reality was far less sacred. Children as young as two were given 'roddings' by assorted adults with birch canes secreted around the Fellowship's houses. Many teenagers were placed in households separate from their families and taught to place their trust in the all-male Elders, who laid down increasingly arbitrary rules. Everything from reading to crisps was outlawed as 'worldly'. Young children were told they were possessed with 'demonic spirits' and sent for exorcisms. Adherents, speaking in tongues, could be found convulsing on the floor. In the 1970s, one member died on a railway track and another was found naked in the garden in December, dead from exposure. And sexual abuse was rife. Across two one-hour films, survivors give harrowing testimony. Abigail was 14 when she was sexually assaulted and told 'if he didn't ejaculate, it's not rape'. Nathan was abused over eight years from the age of 10 (by a man who received an 18-month suspended sentence). Philippa was 12 when she saw her 13-year-old friend being indecently assaulted by an Elder. After the victim attempted suicide, Philippa was branded 'a traitor' by Stanton and the perpetrator was sentenced to three months in prison before 'he was welcomed back into the community, into a leadership position'. Thirty-three allegations have been made against Stanton himself, including the sexual assault of children. Yet the most shocking fact is saved until a title card at the very end: 'It is estimated that one in six children in the Jesus Army were sexually abused.' Stanton's grip on the organisation ended only with his death in 2009, aged 82, when he was replaced by the 'Apostolic Five'. In the wake of Jimmy Savile and other scandals, the Army's insurance company asked about any historic cases of abuse before agreeing to renew the policy. This prompted a wave of disclosures, which were compiled in a 'massive file of papers' that, when requested, was handed over to police. Operation Lifeboat was launched in 2014 and over two years gathered 214 allegations of physical and sexual abuse, mostly against children. Only five members were convicted. Two were jailed – the longest for three years, for anal rape. DC Mark Allbright, of Northamptonshire Police, blames a 'closing of ranks' among the Army's leadership for the dearth of prosecutions, with some worried about the effect on the church, and others 'personally implicated as well'. The Apostolic Five told the programme makers: 'In 2013, we as the senior leadership initiated a wide-ranging process that invited disclosures of any kind of abuse, both historic and recent, and referred all such reports to the authorities.' The crimes are not just documented by victims. Jez, appointed a Shepherd in Leicester, admits he was informed of 'rapes' and 'sexual activity with minors' in confession. When he raised it within the organisation, he was told 'the power of that sin was under the blood of Jesus and therefore cancelled out'. Director Ellena Wood, who spent three years on the films, challenges him with 'the difficult question'. She posits: 'There will be some people who will sit at home and say, 'What on earth were you doing not reporting it to the police?'' 'It's a responsibility of giving a contributor the opportunity to explain why they didn't do something,' she tells me now. 'What Jez explains in that moment is this grip that this organisation has over you, where essentially if you do something they tell you not to do, you're going to hell or you're going to get kicked out and your entire life is going to fall apart.' An Elder, David, is reduced to tears as he faces up to the harm caused by the church he still loves, while clinging to the idea that just five convictions 'said that it wasn't institutionalised'. 'The thing with David,' says Wood, 'is that he was really processing [it all] in that interview. I thought David was very courageous in the way that he actually goes to that space and acknowledges what happened.' A psychologist was on hand before, during and after filming and the production team has offered advice on making social media profiles private to limit the contributors' exposure to any social media backlash. In 2019, the Fellowship announced it was closing and liquidating assets, including a property portfolio worth an estimated £50 million (built up from members' own house sales and a thriving business empire including a health food shop and a building supply company). Solicitor Kathleen Hallisey represents more than 100 of the survivors, all of whom have received their compensation payments as part of the redress scheme launched in 2022. 'The biggest takeaway for me is that any government body should not be complacent in thinking that this was a strange anomaly that happened in Northampton many years ago,' she tells me. 'We have high-control groups operating throughout the country and there's been a proliferation since Covid [one expert has estimated there are 2,000]. So, this is absolutely a scenario that could happen again. None of these leaders have been criminalised because our coercive control laws only apply to domestic and intimate partner relationships.' Sarah left after tiring of a life focused more on 'gaining souls than making friends'. Her husband wanted to remain, so her marriage broke down at the same time. She is now working as a child and adolescent mental health nurse, and picking up the pieces of her life. Although she understands the need for recompense for others, she has not pursued a claim herself. 'I don't think money, for me, would make that much difference because you've still got to deal with whatever you've got to deal with, haven't you?' Instead, she hopes the documentary may offer her a form of closure as she still 'takes time to adjust and be part of life again'. Even after more than two decades, the old Sarah is still re-emerging. 'I've regained a lot of my confidence,' she says. 'I've learned that it's OK to dress in certain ways and not think I'm going to be causing some man to stumble and lead them to hell.' Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army is on BBC Two and BBC iPlayer from July 27. Podcast, In Detail: The Jesus Army Cult, is available weekly from Monday July 28 on BBC Sounds

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