Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [107]
“I pray for Father’s spirit and for Father to be near me,” Naomi began in a sweet, soft voice. “That he will speak through me. And I will only say that which he wants me to say.
“I first ask, ‘Do we really believe in Uncle Rulon?’ If we do, then we believe that Warren Jeffs is the prophet at this time.”
Naomi’s opening remarks were disquieting, but what she would soon reveal would send a ripple through our congregation. “I am so grateful to be married to our prophet,” she told us, admitting that she had been sealed to Warren. It turned out that Naomi was among the first of seven of Rulon’s wives who had married Uncle Warren in a secret ceremony on October 8. I thought back to the conversation I had with Kassandra in the days before she left. This was clearly what she was referring to, and I started to understand why she had fled. Although I still felt hurt and abandoned by her, part of me—a part I dared not express—couldn’t help but be grateful that she had left before being married to Warren.
As we all digested the startling information, Naomi recounted a series of anecdotes that proved Warren’s natural place as our prophet. We’d always known that Uncle Rulon would return as a young man to carry out his mission, but we’d imagined that he would be renewed in his own skin. Now Naomi was implying that the transformation had been more subtle: Uncle Rulon had returned to us in the form of his son.
Now that I no longer belong to the FLDS, I can understand how an outsider would find all of this ludicrous. But having spent my entire life listening only to this powerful rhetoric, to the constant repetition of these extreme beliefs, I was completely conditioned to believe whatever I was told by the people I believed to be God’s messengers. Though the FLDS are understandably offended by the word brainwashed, the truth is, I was, and I could not access, let alone act on, my inherent doubts.
Naomi’s testimony was met with absolute silence as we all sat riveted, listening to her recount her private conversations with Uncle Rulon. “He told me many times before and after his stroke that I would be called as a witness, and he told me many other things that are too sacred to repeat. Just before his death, he told me, ‘Stay close. I need you. I won’t be here much longer. I’m going away, but I will be close.’”
She recalled an instance in which she, Warren, and another of Uncle Rulon’s wives, Mary, were in Rulon’s room. The prophet was sick. “Warren walked out into the hall and I looked upon him and I saw Father’s holy light shine on him. I felt the same feeling on Warren that I had felt on Father. The majesty of his priesthood was shining through him. The brilliance of Warren’s countenance overpowered me and a surge went through my body. At that moment, I knew.
“I bear witness that Warren Jeffs is the prophet,” Naomi declared, her delicate voice resonating through the meeting hall. “I bear testimony that Father kept Warren close for this very reason. Father is closely guiding Warren and will only have him do the Lord’s will.” This carefully orchestrated presentation, along with the testimonies of the church elder and Issac Jeffs, solidified Warren’s position as our new prophet. It had been almost three months since the death of our prophet, and while Warren had assured us that he was not aspiring to any position, he’d continued to lead all of the meetings and prayer services. In fact, several of his staunch supporters had taken to standing outside of the meetinghouse before services to poll male congregants on where their allegiance lay. “Do you support Uncle Warren?” they’d ask, refusing admittance to those who didn’t answer affirmatively. Many of us who now sat listening to Naomi Jeffs’s oration