“Dubs for Dummies”

By “Farkel”


Dear Brothers and Sisters in the Worldwide Brotherhood of Jehovah’s Witnesses™,
     There has been much public interest in our beliefs lately, so we
have prepared a very brief summary of our core beliefs in a new pamphlet
which you may offer to interested persons. Hopefully, this pamphlet will
generate enough interest with honest-hearted people and enable you to
start many new Bible studies. Please remember to occasionally use the
Bible for reference in those studies, but also remember the Biblical
counsel on moderation in all things.
     The Faithful and Discreet Slave CLASS through careful prayer and
consideration has come up with a title for this pamphlet that will
surely generate interest and curiosity. We have entitled it
“Dubs For Dummies.”
     To the worldwide body of elders: for instructions on how to distribute
this pamphlet in field service work and informally, please refer to
Watchtower Directive AU-474-392-17, page 17, sub-section 9, paragraph 14.
Make sure the congregation follows these instructions exactly as written.
We offer our warmest Christian regards,

Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, INC.


Dubs for Dummies

If you are an honest-hearted person who is interested in knowing more about the Bible and its wonderful provisions for mankind, we ask you to please consider the beliefs of Jehovah’s Witnesses. We are confident that once you do, you will see that Jehovah’s Witnesses are endeavoring to follow the Bible as our Creator wants us to do. You may have heard about Jehovah’s Witnesses, but also may not know what we believe and practice. We encourage you to take a few minutes and review this brief summary of our main beliefs:

We do not celebrate birthdays because we believe life is sacred and we do not want to put ourselves at risk getting beheaded, as so commonly happens at such gatherings.

We only have one celebration a year. This is the celebration of the Lord’s Evening Meal, held on Nissan 300ZX-turbo of each year. To prepare for this grand celebration, our congregations around the world purchase approximately 80,000 bottles of wine and then assemble together in our Kingdom Halls. No one is allowed to smile at this celebration because it is a “serious celebration.” At the meeting, we fill up glasses with wine, and pass them around so that everyone can look at those glasses of wine. After everyone has had a chance to look at those glasses of wine, the celebration concludes with a prayer. You might be wondering what happens to these 80,000 bottles of wine that everyone had to look at. Well, it is customary to end the evening by purchasing another 2 MILLION bottles of wine and drinking all that wine in various gatherings after the celebration of the Lord’s Evening Meal.

Jehovah’s Witnesses are the only True Christians™ and some day may actually write a book using the name “Jesus” or “Christ” in its title.

We believe that every prophecy in the Bible has a greater fulfillment in our modern day, and that every prophet in the Bible pictured an even greater prophet in our day. Every single one of the good Bible prophecies and all the good prophets in the Bible are fulfilled in and by us and those who govern us. All the bad prophecies and bad prophets apply to everyone else. Jehovah’s Witnesses are a humble people.

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Apostate in the neighborhood

I think the word got out among Jehovah’s Witnesss that there is an “apostate” in my neighborhood. There is someone in my neighborhood that they avoid. They never knock on his door. Nope. Never. I’m sure that God approves of their behavior – because they’ve been told that for them, apostates should be identified – and then ignored.

I live in a very nice, very safe neighborhood in a medium-sized city in central Oregon. For a while, I’d see either JWs or LDS missionaries working this neighborhood at least once a month. During the summer we seemed to get more than our fair share, simply because there is very little traffic on our quiet streets, and the homes are surrounded by tall trees – making the area shady and cool.

During the winter I wouldn’t see any Mormons, but there were frequent JWs knocking on doors. They would often pull up in a big sedan and then work the neighborhood in what seemed to be strange and illogical patterns. I’d watch as they paired off as two sisters or in husband and wife teams.

Shortly after my wife and I moved here four years ago, we were visited by two JW sisters. They appeared to be in their mid-50s, and even though it was midwinter, they were nicely dressed. When they knocked, my wife answered the door. Never a Jehovah’s Witness, she quickly made it clear that she was not interested. Just before shutting the door, however, she suggested that “maybe my husband will talk to you.”

I went to the door and politely listened to their canned presentation, accepted their Watchtower and Awake! magazines, and even gave them a $1 donation. Getting that dollar bill would encourage them to mark me down for an eventual “go-back” or return visit.

As expected, within two weeks one of the sisters and her husband came to the door. I was in my office that looks out over the front lawn, and I watched as they drove up and parked in front of my house. They were driving a large American sedan. For some reason, they sat in the car for nearly twenty minutes. I could tell by the vapor coming out of the tailpipe, that they were sitting there with the engine running. I guessed they were going over their notes and planning their strategy. They finally left their car and walked up to my front door. I knew instinctively that this was the follow-up visit I’d been expecting.

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Douglas’s Story

By Gordon Smith

As ill-luck would have it, I was born in 1964 to an unyielding Witness father who, as I was to discover, was intent on proving himself to be more holy than Swiss cheese. If that weren’t enough to be getting on with, my two older siblings and I regularly suffered the effects of his violent nature as well as his compulsive behaviour. So obsessed was he with his religion, that his life revolved around straining every last self-righteous drop of meaning from the society’s non-stop outpourings.

My earliest memories as a Jehovah’s Witness were that of being dragged mercilessly backwards and forwards to the Kingdom Hall and from door to door, preaching the Grim News of the Kingdom. Even then, the regimen and strict organisation of our lives seemed to me to be bordering on the criminally insane.

In his attempt to knock us into Christian shape, Dad doled out gratuitous discipline as though it was about to go out of fashion. Against today’s liberal standards, all that brute physicality would be totally unacceptable. Against my own personal standards of reasonableness and caring, even back then in 1960’s, my father fell awfully short of the mark.

Once at school, I had no choice than to begin to make comparisons between my own, rather bizarre life, and that of the other children I saw around me, and that was when the real horror of the situation struck me as hard as a black pudding to the nape of the neck. I was a weirdo!

The one shaft of light, however, amongst the impenetrable darkness of life as a Witness was knowing that soon, this system of things, as they frequently called it, was coming to an end. “Just five more years.”, were Dad’s watchwords and he would regularly talk us through the cataclysmic events that were to bring about the end of the world.

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Watchtower “breakdown” on the Highway to Paradise

By Terry Walstrom

All of us at one time or another have owned an automobile that was a real lemon!  While the car may have been  shiny, stylish and totally cool-looking – the problem was it was a piece of crap.

Repair, after repair, after repair! A never-ending spiral of maintenance kept it in the shop more than it was on the road!

You may have really loved that car. In fact – it might well have been a classic – but was totally useless for basic transportation because IT COULD NOT GET YOU WHERE YOU WANTED TO GO!

And that, my friends, applies to the religion known as “Jehovah’s Witnesses!”

The engine which drives this “tour bus to a Heavenly Paradise” keeps breaking down, forcing the bus to the side of the road and making the passengers wait for repairs.

All the while, the tour guide and the bus company offer glowing reassurances that you are “IN GOOD HANDS” and the arrival will be well worth the trip!

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Discovering the “Truth” – My three years as a JW

By Ian Haynes

In 1951 I was born into a loving, though somewhat nominal, Christian family, and dedicated to God in a Baptist Church. Growing up with my sister, we occasionally attended Baptist and Anglican services with mum and dad. Every night, before going to sleep, mum taught us to pray: “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, stoop to hear a little child.” God was good, and I always believed in him. As a young boy I would look at a picture I had of Jesus dying on the cross. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I asked him: “Why did they do that to you Jesus? They shouldn’t have done that to you!” In my teenage years my friends and I would sometimes return from nights out on the town in deep discussion about God and creation verses evolution. Anthony would inevitably mock me for believing that God had created us. We’d then talk about such things with Graham’s Jehovah’s Witness mother into the early hours.

Graham, however, hated such “fire-side chats” with his mother because he loathed his Witness upbringing and had no intention of resuming his former life. Rather, girls, guitars and rock music, along with other “worldly” interests, took precedence. Scarred by his past, he half expected to be killed by God at Armageddon in 1975, so my guess was that life for him was too short to waste! Graham was an intelligent, sensitive friend; an artist, who played guitar and wrote poetry, which was later published. As a young boy, he’d been my school pal, but he’d been forbidden by his mother to be my friend outside of school hours. This reduced him to tears. I can see him now begging his mum to let him play with me while she stoutly refused, telling him that he already had a friend at the Kingdom Hall. When he said that he didn’t like “that boy”, his mother rebuked him for talking in such a way about “a brother.” His mother explained to me that she had nothing against me, but that Witness children were like the Jews who restricted their friendships to their own community. She suggested that I could always see more of Graham if my parents allowed me to go to their meetings at the Kingdom Hall. That idea didn’t interest me in the least! At school Graham was known as a pacifist. Often I’d start fun-fights with him, but my rough play made him cry. He always forgave me and remained my friend. Nevertheless, after a time, he withstood my challenges and left me full of guilt. When I implored him to punch me hard in the face as a just punishment for having been so horrible, he resolutely refused. Dear Graham.

Despite our history as friends and Graham’s aversion to his Witness past, as a teenager I honestly enjoyed talking to Graham’s mother. Perhaps our talks touched that inexplicable inner hunger which from childhood had eluded identification. In search of this elusive desirable otherness, Graham and I, now free spirits, “dropped out and did our own thing”, hitch-hiking and camping in southern Ireland for several months. For some reason I sensed that this trip, unlike others we’d known, would forever change me. We traveled through all types of weather, played our guitars in bars and camped near lakes and seashores. Returning home, however, was totally devastating, for I had lost the love of my life: a most beautiful Irish girl; all that remained was the emptiness of a hippy-type life style with all its impenetrable questions: What was the point of our existence? Why had love itself hurt so much? Why had the beauty we’d found on our travels made me sense that our world had lost its meaning? Surely we were meant to love each other within a context of beauty and dignity, mirrored by the kind country folk we’d met who gave so freely yet lived so simply in their little white crofts beside peat fueled fires. With the majestically beautiful mountains, the surrounding scented greenery, the clear azure seas -, all this – and so much more – had echoed creation’s original intention and beckoned its return. The magnetism of Ireland was immense and my heart ached inconsolably.

Within this haunting ambiance, the impending paradise of which Graham’s mother spoke, sat comfortably. I so wanted to believe that it was true. Eventually I accepted, in 1970, the offer of a free “Bible study” (which in reality turned out to be a Watchtower book study) with Don, a jovial “mature brother” and Barry, who used to go to the same school as me. Barry had acquired a bit of a rebel reputation at school before his re-conversion back into the local Witness congregation, so I especially looked forward to meeting him. He became a fond friend, with a good sense of humour. This, together with an indelible experience which calmed my anguished heart, helped in my decision to eventually get baptised as a Jehovah’s Witness. Our Kingdom Hall was in Hainault Essex (England), and the congregation there seemed to be full of overwhelmingly friendly people. Attractive girls smiled eagerly, but the memory of my Irish love remained, and my loss of her had left me determined not to hurt as I had been hurt. Anyway, God, not girls, came first!

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An Interesting Twist in a Child Custody Case

By Richard E. Kelly

Although a bit apprehensive at first, I was recently asked to help a non-JW mom in a child custody hearing. Due to the story of my own childhood, Growing Up in Mama’s Club – A Childhood Perspective of Jehovah’s Witnesses, she believed I could help convince the court that her three school-aged children should not be baptized as JWs, if that was their choice, until they were 18 years old.

She’d married a disfellowshipped JW and early on made a non-binding verbal agreement with her husband that their kids would not be raised as JWs. After their divorce, the dad had a change of heart. He was reinstated and began attending meetings sporadically. Several months ago, he started taking the kids to the Kingdom Hall on the Sundays he had custody. As soon as the mom found out, she filed a complaint.

The mom did her homework and provided good documentation to the court to support her concerns. Then she petitioned for me and another ex-Bethelite to be her expert witnesses. The questions and our testimony were to be as follows:

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