Story 08

Murray, Kentucky (Chi Alpha & Hope Harbor Church)

Going into college in 2008, I knew that I wanted to start a habit of attending a campus ministry because I wanted to maintain my faith, find solid friendships, and have alcohol-free options for hangouts. I thought this was a good plan and was super excited to explore the ministries at my campus tour’s extracurricular event the summer before freshman year. The most enticing presentation was for the Christ Ambassadors (it was actually Chi Alpha, but they changed the name on our campus to Christ Ambassadors because Chi Alpha had developed a bad name… I think it was “rebranded” sometime around 2006, which was when the yearly tshirt design changed). The XA table had a few girls telling people that incoming freshmen could move in a week before school started to do an XA retreat that would help us adjust to the campus life before the rest of the freshmen and other students arrived. This sounded amazing to me — as a high-masking autistic, I liked the idea of easing into the new campus with less sensory overload. What they didn’t advertise, though, was that the retreat was actually meant to hook students in before any other options appeared.

During move-in, my parents asked if I was sure I wanted to stay for this retreat because they got a bad feeling about the leader, Mark Randall. I, of course, wanted to show them that I could make adult decisions, so I told them I would be fine and would be careful. I didn’t realize that conversation was foreshadowing. A week isn’t very long, but it was long enough for a new college student to think that the only friends I would ever have were in the group. And that meant I had to stay.

In the first weeks, we got to know each other. But sprinkled in between fun events, food, and games, we learned about the rules and expectations in the group. Mark would explain some of it, but he delegated the rest to his leaders so that it wouldn’t be as intimidating. It sounds crazy now, but it worked at the time.

-Boys and girls cannot hang out without a group.
-No dating. The only courting that should happen is determined by Mark, and any dates during courting should be supervised. But, if Mark says someone is your soulmate, you’re destined to have a great relationship if you stay faithful to Mark.
-Daily prayer meetings occur at 7:14am everyday. Be there, or you’re not a good Christian.
-Weekly service is on Wednesday evenings, and it is mandatory. No exam, family event, or other engagement should ever prevent you from attending unless you have permission from Mark.
-Weekly Bible Study is on Tuesdays. It’s mandatory if you want to be a good Christian.
-Saturday night church at Hope Harbor isn’t mandatory, but it’s recommended if you want to prosper.
-Sunday church at Hope Harbor happens in the morning and evening— you should go to both.
-You must sign up to man the booth that advertises XA on campus everyday. Doing so weekly (at a minimum) is the only way to be a good Christian.
-You must also sign up to hold signs and give surveys on the campus sidewalks because it’s going to be your fault if someone doesn’t go to Heaven. Bonus points if you tell people they are going to hell.
-You must speak in tongues, because not speaking in tongues means you don’t have favor. (It turns out most of us faked it because we were afraid to be caught.)
Get a mentor in the group and go through the Purple Book together. This is the only way to be a good Christian. (And what they didn’t mention is that all of your deepest, darkest secrets would get reported to Mark so that he could use your past in his manipulations.)
-Do not go home over the weekend without permission from Mark.
-Never attend any campus events that aren’t sponsored by XA. Attending one makes you a heathen.
-If you have a major in STEM (especially if you’re a woman), you should probably change it.
-Unless you plan to never sleep, you must choose to attend XA (and be a good Christian) OR do your homework/study. Doing homework instead of going to XA meant you didn’t trust that God would help you with the test.
-Any life decisions should go to Mark. Unsure if you should take an internship? Go to Mark. Unsure if you should study abroad? Go to Mark. Unsure if you should rent that apartment? Go to Mark. Unsure where to go on holiday break? Go to Mark. The answer was almost always no.
-Participating in plays at the church could help win you bonus points, but only if Mark liked you. (I know I did several, including one very uncomfortable production at a different AG church just outside of town where I was forced to play a sinner that went to hell and tempted other characters to follow… I have no clue if that was intentional or not.)
-Have questions? Just don’t. If you’re questioning your faith, something said in a sermon, or were worried about something with Mark, don’t say anything to anyone. This was something we learned over time — your quiet conversations with friends would somehow get reported to Mark through “spies”. It was impossible to know if someone was really your friend that you could confide in, or if they would turn around and tell on you for doubting Mark in any way.
-Any issues you have with self injury, addiction, mental illness, or sexual thoughts? You are required to go to Celebrate Recovery at Hope Harbor and follow strict instructions. You are never allowed to miss a meeting for any reason. This is the only way you will be allowed to interact with anyone in the group. But, you’ll still be considered a risk and be isolated from others do you don’t spread your filth.
-Family emergency during a World Missions Summit, mission trip, or SALT conference? You are not allowed to speak to your family or go home early. Leaving shows how unfaithful you are. God will handle the situation and you are required to stay at the event until the end. (I saw this as my best friend’s brother was in a car accident during SALT that left him on life support, another person whose parent got deathly ill during a mission trip, and another person whose grandmother died during World Missions Summit… none of them were allowed to leave.)

Unfortunately, the list could go on forever. Looking back, it’s insanely easy to see all of the red flags with those rules. But, in the moment, it just made sense. And anything that didn’t make sense would be tolerated for the sake of having friends.

Within the first few weeks of freshman year, it was easy to see who Mark favored. The smart, attractive, charismatic students got the best of everything. The average or awkward students were just along for the ride, trying desperately to “win over” Mark so that they could be included. And a select few were clearly seen as black sheep that Mark kept around for a particular reason. I didn’t know until it was too late, but I turned out to be one of those black sheep…

I was assaulted by someone outside of the XA group while I was home on break. When I got back to school, I confided in (who I thought was) a friend. The next day, Mark called me into his office along with one of the female leaders to berate me about spreading lies, pulling others into my drama, and even blaming me for the assault. According to him, it was my fault for being a sinner, for not praying right, and for being hated by God. He said that I was tainting the group with my dirtiness and I needed to earn his respect again if I wanted to stay in the group. He emphasized that he would ruin me if I didn’t do as I was told because he knew my professors and could easily tell them to fail me. I was dismissed with a requirement — I was told to tell my friends that I lied about the assault because I wanted attention. And again, if I didn’t, there would be consequences.

I was devastated as I told my closest friends that I lied, hoping desperately that they would see past it to know the truth. I never wanted to lie to anyone. I just wanted friendship and support, but what I got was ice cold hate. I cried myself to sleep more times than I could count, all while trying to follow the rules. It felt like Mark got some weird satisfaction from watching that happen.

About a month later, I felt like something was off. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone about the assault, but after a few weeks of feeling funky, I chose a leader that I thought I could trust to tell them that I thought I could be pregnant. She took me to the store (along with my best friend) and it felt like she was supporting me as I took the test. It was positive. I was so upset that I snapped it in half and threw it away. She held me as I cried. Eventually, she got up to dig the test out of the trash. I remember thinking that was weird, but things were all a whirlwind that night and I let it go. The next day, though, Mark again called me into his office. I walked past the female leader on my way into his office, but then the door was shut, and Mark and I were left alone. The broken pregnancy test was sitting on his desk. I had never seen that level of anger in anyone’s face before. He seethed about how I didn’t obey his command to not talk about the assault, and that this pregnancy proved to him that the devil was inside of me. He basically told me that he tried to help me, but could tell that I didn’t care about anyone but myself.

He broke one of his most important rules by pulling me into his van right that very moment (nobody of the opposite sex should ever be alone together, but I guess this was an exception). He drove me to the local Catholic church’s pro-life clinic where he knew the worker. He had me take a urine test while he and the worker watched me pee so that he could confirm that I was pregnant. They were talking quietly in the corner as the test was processing, almost like they were scheming something. Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he thanked the lady, signed something, and pulled me back to the van without saying anything. He stared angrily ahead as he drove. When he went past the campus without turning, I asked where we were going. He still didn’t say anything. Every once in a while, he would throw an insult my way — things along the lines of “I can’t believe I let you stay” and “you’re disgusting for letting this happen” and “do you find joy in causing all this drama?” I had no clue how long we were on the road, but I know we crossed state lines because I remember being startled by the Welcome sign on the highway. I later realized that he drove me 6 hours… we went from Murray, KY to just outside of Chicago, IL against my will. It was like my brain shut off and I separated from myself in the panic. As we pulled into an abortion clinic, my stomach lurched. Without looking at me, he told me I had no choice but to get this devil out of me. He told me that everyone knows I am a liar and said that a pregnancy would be another reason for everyone to hate me. He convinced me that my parents would be ashamed. He said that I had a chance to start with a clean slate by getting rid of it. He promised to tell people that I was clean. He promised.

So I went. I felt like I had no choice. There was no time to think, to talk, to question. He held me captive with his manipulations. It didn’t help that I had no idea how far away we were from campus and he was my only ride. He talked to a worker, got the paperwork, and sat across the waiting room from me as he filled it out. At one point, he went over to ask the cutoff of when an abortion could happen at that clinic. I was over 12 weeks at that point and Mark knew the date of my assault, but he changed the date to make it look like I still qualified as under 12 weeks. He wouldn’t let me read the paperwork before he demanded I sign it, then he paid the fee and I was sent back. No waiting period, no asking me directly, no calling my parents.

It was a surprisingly short process and nobody questioned why this old guy was speaking for me. Or why he wanted to be in the room during the procedure. He seemed to know the people at that clinic, too, which felt like such a hypocritical thing. I couldn’t figure out how a campus pastor could be so friendly with the pro-life and pro-abortion in the same breath. I couldn’t figure anything out. But, he smiled as he watched them remove the baby. He sat there, smirking at me as they did the exam, pulled out the suction device, and performed the procedure. Then he said that maybe I had a chance at redemption now. It made me sick. Literally. I threw up on the floor as I wondered if God even knew I was still there. I don’t remember being mad at God, I just felt forgotten. Mark’s words had taken root in my soul, and I was convinced that I was scum and I didn’t deserve to be alive. A big part of me hoped that the abortion would somehow make me bleed out so I could just let go. I wasn’t that lucky, though.

I don’t remember leaving the procedure room, and I don’t remember the drive back to campus. But I do remember him arriving at the XA house to pick up one of the guys and then drive me over to my dorm. The guy basically carried me inside because I was struggling to walk. It was all such a blur. I knew that he was saying awful things to me and even did some inappropriate stuff to me in the process, but I didn’t care at that point. I just wanted to shut everything out. I also remember there being a lot of blood, and I ended up needing to throw out my bed sheets, so I think perhaps I was in physical shock as much as I was in emotional shock.

I was numb for a very long time. I don’t even remember the rest of my freshman year. I think I was just going through the motions to survive. The timeline feels like such a blur, and I don’t even think I could pinpoint which classes I was taking the entire year. I was walking through a haze, a shell of a person that I wished I could be. But, somehow, I masked it well and nobody seemed to notice (or care) that anything was wrong. I simultaneously had just enough friends to feel like I had to stay, but so few friends that I felt like an outcast.

I spent the next two years earning a spot in the group. Things seemed like they were ok for the most part, aside from some fear-based preaching at both the XA campus ministry and Hope Harbor. I struggled with a chronic illness that put me in the hospital at least once per semester. I was constantly told that it was my fault because I let everything happen and God was punishing me. People at church that didn’t know what happened freshman year just told me that I was sick because my faith wasn’t strong. They told me to look at myself to find where I was going wrong to make God mad at me. I didn’t believe it at first, but the words were like knives in my heart. It took a long time for me to finally let go of that thought of somehow causing my own chronic illness. Looking back, I am convinced that my health spiraled out of control because of all of the stress I was in. Holding all of those secrets was eating away at my body.

I never got to the caliber of the smart, attractive, charismatic team, but I got away with being average. Or so I thought. I had no clue that he told everyone to stay away from me. Years later, I learned that people were told to pretend to like me, but to report everything to him. At the time, I don’t think anyone was really my friend. Thankfully, during the last few years, I’ve had the chance to reconcile with several people that had been my friends before the assault. I am still devastated by everything I lost in that, though.

Everything culminated in a lie the spring of junior year. I had a cordial conversation with a girl I thought was a friend, where I mentioned off handedly that my dad was worried when I moved in freshman year. She apparently reported to Mark that I called him a pedophile. The following Sunday, Mark came up to my seat, pulled me up, cornered me on a wall in front of everyone, and SCREAMED at me for spreading rumors. “How DARE you lie about things like that after all I’ve done for you?!” I’ll never forget that phrase. He was so close to my face that he literally spat on me as he spoke. He demanded to know who said what, why I would say anything like that to an innocent girl in our group (one who was actually two years older than me), and so much more. He pointed to the door and told me to get out. I wasn’t allowed to stay for church. I sobbed as I left and started walking the miles back to campus because my ride was still in church.

Any time Mark decided someone would be kicked out, he would tell everyone to stop all forms of communication. No one would talk to me, no one would look at me, no one would answer my calls. I wasn’t allowed at the XA house, I couldn’t sit with anyone at lunch, I wasn’t allowed to attend any XA or Hope Harbor events. I was ostracized right before my senior year.

My senior year was hard. I had to build a college life from scratch. A new friend committed suicide in front of me (he jumped from the fine arts building as I was walking to class, and landed at my feet), which pushed me into an even darker space. I tried to attend other campus ministries and churches, but barely found a space before graduating. I felt like I was again stuck in survival. It was really hard for me to hear Bible verses without having a visceral reaction. I had a really hard time with saying prayers out loud. Several Hillsong songs triggered me into full panic attacks. It took a very long time of trial and error for me to finally feel safe in a church. I’ve been a member at my current church for 10 years and on their worship team for 8 years, but STILL have moments of flashbacks with Mark. I wasn’t able to sit in a Sunday service until just last month (it’s been 15 years).

One of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with is loneliness. I always wanted a family and kids. After what happened in college, I was never able to have kids again. I also couldn’t find a significant other — between losing the vital college years and then trying to overcome the emotional damage of it, I just couldn’t find anyone (not for lack of trying). I’m now well into my thirties, completely alone and trying to love the life I do have. I am trying so hard not to dwell on what I lost because of Mark, but I’m constantly reminded of the baby that could’ve made me a mom. The beautiful thing that could have come out of the awful situation. The friends I should have been allowed to have during it all….

It was only after Mark passed away that people started to talk. I started to open up about what happened in our private support group, but still felt a lot of shame around the baby. Because so many people can be judgmental about abortion, I was afraid to say that part — I felt out the waters by saying it was a miscarriage. But, to my surprise, people were so receptive to hearing what happened and I started to feel like it would be ok to tell the full story. It’s crazy that it took so many years, Mark passing away, and even more years for me to finally say what happened. Even still, it scares me to not be anonymous in case the people at that church and on campus may retaliate. But, it’s worth the risk because I don’t ever want my friends to feel alone.

I knew that there were some people that got kicked out of the group before me, but I had no idea of the depth and breadth of the pain felt all around me. I’ve since learned of stories from some of the people in the “in” group and even in the leadership team… it apparently wasn’t just the black sheep of the group that were targets. Mark hurt SO many people in so many ways. He knew exactly how to manipulate vulnerable people. During his 40 years, he learned how to get information about the students and weaponize it for his benefit. Unfortunately, he taught Art (pastor at Hope Harbor) and Todd (pastor at the campus’s current XA) how to manipulate people and run ministries in the same way he did, so his legacy has been perpetuated long after his passing. That terrifies me.

All I know firsthand is my own story, but I know of so many others. According to my peers, there was even some abuse happening with the guys at Mark’s house, which I’m devastated to hear about. But those are their stories… and I hope that some day they feel safe enough to open up about them. I’m so thankful for forums like this so that more safe places become available. The more people open up about their perspectives and dark secrets from those years, the less alone people feel. It’s so deeply healing. I hate that anyone else had to go through bad things because of Mark and others like him. I hope so deeply that the future generation doesn’t have to go through the same things.

The campus ministry is now under yet another new name and is led by one of Mark’s understudies (Todd)… I hope and pray that the students in that group are safe. And I continue to pray that people’s eyes are opened to what was truly happening under Mark’s leadership. Hopefully sharing my story is a good step.