Mary Beth Rumble

I attended the Institute for Global Outreach Developments International when I was a very naive 21-year-old looking to serve the poor in Africa as a full-time missionary. A friend had been attending the Institute and kept raving about how God was changing his life. He invited me to visit this unaccredited missionary training school in the suburbs of Nashville. Even though there was nothing impressive about their “campus” in an office building off the interstate, after a few hours I was hooked. The charismatic and compelling leaders, especially Gregg Garner and his mother, convinced me that their connection with God was special. Their seeming ability to hear from the Lord was unlike anything I had experienced. 

MY TIME AT THE INSTITUTE

I enrolled in classes for the fall. I quickly realized it was not a professional operation and started doubting paying so much money for an unaccredited education. Gregg always had a response to these doubts or criticisms before a question was even posed. I remember during orientation he told us that the accreditation of the world was not important to God and shouldn’t be something we needed either. He even mentioned at one point that some outsiders thought the school was a cult and went on to dismiss their claims by saying how stupid and small-minded they were. He constantly spoke about how we were set apart like God’s chosen people so naturally other Christians would not understand our ways. I remember him ridiculing everyone’s hometown churches—the same churches who raised us with the values to sacrifice for the good of others. These were the same precious parishioners who helped pay for our mission trips. Gregg claimed our home churches were foolish, uneducated, and missing the point of Christ’s life entirely. Only Gregg knew how to properly interpret the Bible. We needed him for his irreplaceable connection and intellect. 

One of the first activities that began dismantling my sense of safety was a paper we were instructed to write about our trust issues. We had no idea we would be required to share in front of the class so we all wrote with immense vulnerability. The day they were due people were systematically called upon to read aloud and with that came disclosures of abuse, addiction, self-harm, and deep shame. After a couple days of sharing we were walking open wounds. We assumed that Gregg would address us and share something healing and hopeful. It was never discussed. He wanted to know our secrets, wanted us to confess in front of one another, and to use this information to manipulate us. Later I learned this is a typical tactic used by cult leaders; unethical use of confession. He was breaking us down. This was only the first week of school.

The Bible classes continued to deconstruct the faith of our childhood and while not necessarily bad, in this case, it was toxic. Our foundations were shattered and Gregg promised us when we took this or that class—in two, three, four years—we would understand, but we just weren’t ready yet. He was transferring our pain into dependence on him. We needed him if we wanted to be rebuilt. We needed him if we wanted to understand God.

HOMOPHOBIA AND MISOGYNY

A few months went by and we were assigned to write a modern-day parable. Mine was based on the premise that LGBTQ+ folks do not choose their orientation, just like how people of a racial minority do not choose to be in a marginalized group. Unfortunately, I was called upon to read aloud. I didn’t even finish before Gregg’s father corrected my assertion that being gay wasn’t a choice. He did his best to make an example of me and my deviant thoughts in front of the class. Gregg was notified and I was told to report to his house, alone, for a meeting. When I arrived he asked me to sit down while he explained how wrong I was. He began praying while laying his hands on me. I cried talking about my gay friends and he assured me that they were choosing perverse behavior. I see now how inappropriate and potentially dangerous it was for me to be alone with him. 

The homophobic rhetoric only got worse, especially from Gregg’s father who was the Institute’s Dean for several years. During one class he randomly launched into a diatribe about how gay men had violent, animalistic sex which caused permanent damage to their bodies to the point that they were rendered incontinent. From his view, gay relationships were innately sinful and never existed with love or care. They were simply for meeting depraved carnal desires or they would naturally bear children. Gregg also said highly inappropriate things of a sexual nature. During one class he mentioned how his sense of smell was so heightened that he could tell when a girl was on her period and if she hadn’t cleaned herself properly. He mentioned that girl’s crotches sometimes smelled like cheese and it repulsed him. He motioned to a girl a couple yards away and said even at that distance he could smell her vagina. Later I remember him bragging about how he liked to have sex with his wife with the lights on. He was discussing these things as a 30-year-old man to a group of fresh-faced kids in their late teens/early 20’s. 

SHAME AND FAVOR

The culture of the school was very unhealthy. Gregg would heap praise on people who showed him unwavering loyalty, who worked multiple jobs, had a rigorous class load, slept just a few hours a night, and attended all community events. He always had a young, pretty girl who would serve as the ultimate teacher’s pet. He would use her as the example the students should all emulate. He seemed flirtatious with her. I even remember one particular girl dressing like him which clearly stroked his ego. Years later I realized it was grooming behavior and I’ve wondered if he ever sexually abused anyone. 

People were regularly shamed in front of the class by Gregg and his father. The young men were always being torn down and I remember thinking that if this was the fruit of Gregg’s teachings, it was rotten. Everyone was so busy trying to win Gregg’s favor they were either disconnected or ruthlessly competing. As a person who came from a healthy church and large, supportive community I could see that this group was sick. I listened to people and noticed when they weren’t doing well. I was reprimanded by Gregg for not disclosing someone else’s sexual acts when told to me in confidence. A few of my close friends in the community were struggling with depression. It seemed like within the greater group they were thought of as lazy or weak. I witnessed good people get ridiculed for wanting to go on family vacations or go home during breaks. I saw suffering that was never addressed by the leadership but instead was spun as consequences of not being humble or committed.

THE COST OF COMMITMENT

There was an expectation that you would choose a region to dedicate your life to. There were four countries to choose from and I did not feel inclined towards any of them. After you chose your country, you would then partner up for marriage with someone from that team. Again, I was underwhelmed by the choices. The younger, prettier girls were chosen first and anyone without a thigh gap had to wait to be mercifully plucked out of the singles group. Procreation was highly revered. A common saying was “Marriage equals babies”. I’ve often wondered how difficult it must be to struggle with infertility in that climate. It is now quite common in the community to see parents with five or six kids—and they are rumored to all be on state assistance for healthcare and food stamps.

The school fees would inflate without much notice. Our room and board was already wildly inflated (an excess of a couple of thousand dollars once our apartment’s rent was paid). I can only assume based on new criminal charges that this money went to Gregg. They introduced a mandatory meal plan with promises of healthy, organic food. I was already stretched to my limit but had to work more hours to afford meals I didn’t even have access to because I was at work. And of course, the meals were cheap carbs, nothing like the fanciful food promised. At one point I broke my eyeglasses and couldn’t afford another pair. My favorite professor bought me new ones. I still want to cry thinking of her generosity.

BEGINNING TO SEE CLEARLY

Towards the end of the school year, I began giving up. The goalposts set by Gregg seemed impossible to reach and I was exhausted. I began slacking on school work and sleeping a full eight hours. I befriended outsiders at my job where no one else from the school worked. It was unusual for students to work independently. Several businesses employed a dozen or more students where they would be cocooned from outside influence. An established student from the Institute got hired at my job and discouraged me from hanging out with co-workers and customers. Later I wondered if she was instructed to do so to keep me in the fold. My critical thinking skills had been lulled but they were beginning to awaken.

In the last month of school, I emailed Gregg after I had grown sick of his constant attack of any Christians who weren’t us and any Christian leader who wasn’t him. I was tired of his constant “us vs. them” mentality. I didn’t see how this elitist approach was supposed to serve others. I still have the email and it is cringey how eager I was to please him and how much I wanted to be mistaken. I honestly thought to be in disagreement with him was to be distanced from God and the ministry as a whole. Once again, he called me in for a meeting. He eviscerated me. He used words I was unfamiliar with just so he could ask me what they meant and then embarrass me for not knowing. He lectured me for twenty minutes about how Jesus had to suffer crucifixion to prove earthly systems wrong. In hindsight, I see that it’s a common narcissistic trait to overwhelm a person with word salad in an attempt to confuse them so the conflict is dismissed and the narcissist is the default winner. Gregg told me I couldn’t possibly love or trust him, made me feel that I was an enemy of God, that I wasn’t a part of the chosen set-apart community, and that my entire perspective of wanting to be an inclusive ministry was wrong. I left sobbing and apologizing profusely.

Soon I decided I would not be continuing at the Institute. Someone had mentioned that by a year’s end we should know if we can commit our lives to the community, otherwise we are a waste of time and resources. I was definitely a waste. At this point, I had already raised money to go on a summer mission trip. Since I had now shown my rebellious thoughts the male leadership had to decide if they would allow me to attend. I was called “a cancerous element" because I was perceived to be influential. Ultimately I was allowed to go on the trip because one of the guys made a compelling argument on my behalf. 

THE MISSION TRIP

Before we left Nashville we had a training week called “Boot Camp”. We showed up at school with backpacks for a camping trip and were told to remove everything except our Bibles, a notebook, a pen, and our sleeping bags. We were allowed one water bottle and given very little food—if I remember correctly it was an orange and two granola bars. We were then given an outfit of ill-fitting thrifted clothes which took away our individuality and, depending on your size, humiliated you. I was given clothes two sizes too small while the thin girls were given clothes that engulfed their frames. We were then driven to a state park named after the founder of the KKK. It was there that we hiked up a mountain to spend the night on top, exposed to the elements. Someone rolled their ankle badly. Someone killed a venomous snake in the night. There was also screaming when a few people had an animal scurry near them. There was a creature that saddled up next to me but I was so exhausted and beaten down that I truly hoped it would put me out of my misery.

For the remainder of the week, we were pushed to our limit—competing in various sports, going to Bible studies and worship times, sleeping very little, and being fed even less. We had plain oatmeal every morning and a dry boiled chicken breast every evening. I got a severe migraine and Gregg took me into a back room where it was dark and put his hands on my head to pray for me. He told me I was in pain because I needed to let go and trust him. Never mind I just needed a decent meal and some water.

On the trip to Guatemala, Gregg singled me out several times for manual labor. Every time a difficult task was being delegated, I knew I would be chosen. He wouldn’t say it but he was punishing me for defecting. The mission trip itself was nothing noteworthy. We weren’t doing anything better than any other group of white kids from America on short-term missions. For all that talk of being so much better than everyone else, I didn’t see how it was true. 

DEPARTURE AND RETROSPECTION

In a community of seventy individuals, seven of us left that year. I tried to stay in touch with people but many were nervous about fraternizing with a defector. Over time the few relationships that remained have become more distant. Recently after discovering I have spoken out against the leader, I was cut off from the last two people I communicated with any sort of regularity. Dissenting opinions are not tolerated. And how dare anyone speak ill of their beloved prophet.

A couple of years after I left I was sitting in a restaurant when a special on Jonestown began playing across the TV screen. I was intrigued. I ended up getting a couple of books on cults, and as soon as I found a checklist of the criteria required to be considered a cult, I realized G.O.D. was a cult by clear definition. As time goes on new memories will come to the forefront of my mind, and now that I am educated I can see how it’s all an elaborate web of control. I am horrified to think about what could have happened if I stayed, what has happened to other people I love, and what kind of danger is lurking around the corner.

It especially concerns me that the organization is now operating a K-12 school that directly recruits people into the Institute and then seals their fate as servants of Gregg. I believe Gregg to be a narcissistic sociopath who will stop at nothing in his pursuit of power, money, and sex. I could speculate about his crimes, but I know the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation knows far more than I do and I pray that Gregg’s predatory reign will soon end. I pray that justice will be served, that his followers will be spared from any legal liabilities, and that they can go on to live full and healthy lives. 

I want people who read this to know that the people at G.O.D. aren’t stupid. They don’t have weak faith or a total lack of discernment. Many of them were recruited in their teens and early 20’s. They were hungry to make the world a better place; to have a sense of purpose and belonging. Gregg offered them everything—community, housing, education, a calling, a family. To leave now would force them to completely rebuild their lives from scratch. Even if they do know the truth, it is so painful to wrestle with the shame brought on by being duped, recruiting family and friends, and putting your kids in a harmful environment. It is far easier to stay and dismiss those internal voices of doubt. These are talented, brilliant, capable, and compassionate people. Some of the best people I’ve ever known are still involved there and they are raising beautiful children. It is not all a wasteland. But that does not mean it is safe.