GOD THROUGH LISTS
An ethnography on Moorhead’s Jehovah’s Witnesses
Elise Wieck
November 7th, 2011
Qualitative Research Methods
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Finding My Religion
It was difficult for me to find a religious service that I wasn’t familiar with. I grew up in the Lutheran
church, went to an Alliance church (basically one of the random Protestant denominations), and attended a
spiritual revival church (people speaking in tongues and prophecies from God included). I knew Christianity
too well, both the conservative and the revivalists, so I looked for something else. I have done the other two
ethnographies for this class with my partner Sky but, unfortunately, this time we weren’t able to match
schedules, so I set off, alone, to crash someone’s religious service and ‘pretend’ I was legitimate.
My intent was to fully participate in a religious service and mentally take notes of the rituals, the
surroundings, and the conversations. My intent was to write an ethnographic summary of my unfamiliar
religious experience by using what I had seen to develop a tentative grounded theory based on data gathered
as a participant-as-observer. I would go alone to a religious service, attempt to blend in (or at the very least
‘pass’ as authentic), and would use my experience as the basis for my paper. I wanted to appear legitimate
and authentic so the group being observed wouldn’t have a negative association with my presence, feel selfconscious, or change their normal behavior.
As I tried to think of something that a) I wasn’t familiar with and b) actually existed around the
Fargo-Moorhead area, I remembered an event with one of my relative’s mothers. At a wedding shower for
one of her grandchildren, I remember she gave a sort of benediction-advice-chastisement, where she
expressed her wishes for the couple (consisting of subtle disapproval for having a child out of wedlock mixed
with genuine wishes for their well-being); and beyond the tone of her words, her use of the name “Jehovah”
caught my attention. At the time this happened I was heavily involved in my church, and one of my areas of
interest was the different names of God, however, nothing more came of this, except some eight years later, as
I frantically tried to find a religion I wasn’t familiar with, I recalled the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
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J OURNEY TO THE H OLY L AND
FINDING THE HOLY LAND
A Google search pulled up a Moorhead Kingdom Hall and a phone number, which after considering
whether or not I wanted them to even have my phone number, I gave it a ring at about seven in the evening.
A woman answered the phone with “hello?” which threw me off track as I expected an answering machine or
the person to open with something like “Moorhead Kingdom Hall, how can I help you?” Undeterred, though, I
continued on and asked her when the next service was. She abruptly said: “let me let you talk to my husband”
and the phone was quickly given to someone else. Google had given me a residential number. I spoke with
the man, apologized for calling him at home (oh that’s okay!), asked when the service was (Sunday, at one
pm), thanked him for his time (of course, my pleasure), and hung up. So, I had a date, with the Jehovah’s
Witnesses.
Sunday, I panicked about what to wear. The churches I’d attended had no sense of dress code and
jeans were on almost everyone. Did the women at the Kingdom Hall wear dresses or skirts? Did they cover
their hair? What about jewelry? All of these questions were considered before I settled on jeans and boots
with a long knit sweatshirt that was sort of dress-like. I made sure to wear a high-necked shirt and the
sweater had long sleeves. Feeling appropriately modest, I pulled on a jacket and headed out the door.
ARRIVAL AT THE HOLY LAND
The Kingdom Hall was on 30th Street North, Moorhead and easy to find. I pulled into the parking lot
and saw a group of people walking into the door – all the women were wearing skirts. I knew I should have
worn a skirt: Too late to change now. I noticed the building was modern, very square, and didn’t have many
windows. I climbed out of the car, went in the door, and smiled at the man standing inside the door, who
looked like he was greeting people. His face lit up upon seeing me and he asked “are you new here?” and I
said “yes, this is my first time.” He shook my hand and welcomed my coming and offered to give me a tour.
“A tour would be lovely, thank you,” as I mentally noted everything I could see. The first thing he
showed me was a bulletin board that contained multiple postings. I was unfortunate in being unable to get a
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close look at the papers as I was constantly being introduced to people, but the man explained they had both
an English and a Spanish service and then brought me into the main room. In my previous churches I would
have called it a sanctuary, but I didn’t learn the term the Witnesses’ used, if it was different. There were three
sections of chairs and a single-step raised dais at the front which held a lectern to the middle-left, an armless
bright red with gold embroidery chair in the middle, and a table with two more of the bright red chairs facing
each other. I thought the three chairs were very odd but was unable to ask about them. I could see no piano or
organ and there were two windows along one wall that were closer to the ceiling than the ground, and in my
mind, disproportionately small to the size of the room.
PILGRIMAGE THROUGH THE HOLY LAND
The man who was giving me the tour introduced himself as Ricardo and continued to introduce me to
everyone we came across. One of the men said “you must be the young lady I talked to on the phone!” and I
laughed and said “yes, that was me, I’m sorry to have bothered you at home.” He said “it was quite alright”
and Ricardo brought me to the back of the room, where it was divided into three smaller rooms, which I
found interesting. One of the rooms had three rows of the same chairs in the main room, along with a small
refrigerator, microwave, and sink along one wall. Ricardo explained that sometimes the missionary witnesses
took a break at lunch and used the room to make something to eat. He also said the room was used for one of
their weekly meetings that most of the members attended and sometimes they had to split into two groups to
accommodate the number of people.
The middle room was more of a niche in the wall with a bookshelf covering the entire back wall and a
counter in front of it. The bookshelf contained books the Witnesses used in their services and meetings. An
older black man with a black eye patch stood behind the counter. Ricardo asked him to take down a couple of
the books for me and the request had to be repeated twice as John had a hearing problem. “I’ll try b-b-b-but I
can’t see, see a thing” he mutters. He turns around and tries to get the book. His movements are choppy and
neurotic and it’s like his body isn’t quite connected to his head and he’s not sure where his hands are. His
head dips and shakes and he tries to grab the book but his fingers don’t quite work right.
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Ricardo stops him saying “no, no, not that one, the theocratic ministry one” and John tries to find the
right book as his fingers fumble over the spines. Ricardo tries to direct him to the correct book (“to the left,
no, no, the other way”) and John manages to grab the book Ricardo wanted on the third try. It’s a plain, thin,
red book, with “THEOCRATIC MINISTRY” in gold leaf in serif letters down the spine. Ricardo also hands me a
Watchtower: Study Edition and a songbook. He lets me know that today’s service will be covering the topic
“Are You Letting Jehovah Be Your Share?” I’m accumulating a nice stack of material in my hands, nodding,
smiling, and doing my best to be engaging and listen to Ricardo.
He points out the two maps of the Fargo-Moorhead area on either side of the niche. The maps are
divided into heavy black boxes with numbers in them, with codes like “T34”, “T35a”, and “T35b” in the boxes.
Ricardo asks me “you know about the Witnesses door-to-door, right?” and I nod and he continues, saying
“these are the territories and we try to get to each of them!” I innocently ask “once a week?” and his eyes go
wide and he shakes his head, saying “no, no, no! maybe once a year! There’s so much ground to cover and we
go to every house and mark ‘are they home’, ‘are they not home’.” One of the other things he told me about
was the “theocratic ministry” program they have, which, in Ricardo’s words: “all of our members are enrolled
in, and well! They never graduate!” as he laughed.
He leads me to the third room which catches my interest as one full wall is a bookshelf filled with
books. Ricardo proudly states “This is our library! We have both English and Spanish books! We have an
English and a Spanish service!” This was the second time he mentioned the two services, with great emphasis
on having two services. I look over the books with interest and my attention is caught by a series of identical
books. I lean down to read the titles “THE WATCHTOWER: 1982” is the first one I see. Ricardo notices where
I’m looking and proudly states that they have collections of The Watchtower going back to …. He looks over
the bookcase eagerly and finds an old and worn book with the date of “1942.” I am deeply impressed.
The rest of the books are versions of Bibles (including Greek and Latin) and various other books I
was unable to see the titles. I expressed my interest in the antique anthologies of The Watchtower and
Ricardo enthusiastically pointed to the top shelf where an old box with metal-studded corners was. He told
me it was actually a phonograph, and the Witnesses used to go up to people’s doors and play the phonograph
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for people. Ricardo makes motions with his hands like setting up a sort of stand and then turning a crank to
give an idea of how the phonograph worked. Ricardo and I looked over the books and talked about them until
the babble of voices of people in the sanctuary suddenly quieted and the service was about to begin. Ricardo
led me back out and asked “do you have any more questions?” and I said “yes, actually, would you mind if I sat
by you?” I was intimidated by the crowds of people and felt comfortable with Ricardo, who had become a sort
of anchor for me, and wished to remain with him.
WORSHIPPING IN THE HOLY LAND
He told me this wasn’t a problem at all and we went to the row he was sitting in, where I was briefly
introduced to his wife. There was an awkward moment where another woman was already sitting next to
her, but a quiet flurry of words passed between the women and the other woman grabbed her books and
went to the row behind us. The service began with a black man standing at the lectern and bringing the
service to order. After a quick introduction, we began the first song. I obediently found it in my songbook
and followed along as the hymn began. I was instantly transported back to my childhood of sitting in a dark
sanctuary on a hard, cold, wooden pew, kicking at the racks holding books, and alternating between staring at
the ceiling and the floor. I was forced by my mother to attend a Lutheran church for much of my childhood,
until I was approximately twelve years old, when we switched to an Alliance church. The old hymn sung by
the congregation with only an organ or a piano could easily have happened in both the Lutheran church of old
or the Kingdom Hall I was currently in. I followed along the song in my songbook but didn’t sing as I can’t
read sheet music. The song went through three verses and then everyone sat down.
This was my first chance to look around and study the people in the congregation. Most people were
seated in couples and a couple families had children. Like I had noticed in the parking lot, all of the women
wore skirts. The skirts were all below-the-knee and every woman wore stockings or tights underneath. The
shoes were all modest high heels of a couple inches. A jacket over a shirt was paired with the skirt and most
of the women had a solid color with the clothing. I noticed one woman who wore lace-patterned stockings
but the rest had much more modest ones of solid colors or knee-high socks. Most of the women had long hair
held back with a headband although I noticed a woman or two with hair shorter than her shoulders. I saw no
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obvious hair dyes or stylish cuts – I probably had the most nontraditional haircut with one side being longer
than the other. The most striking thing about the men was their clothing – they all wore three-piece suits. I
saw a small boy, probably three years old, and he was also wearing a tiny, child-sized grey suit. The men had
close-cropped hair and wore oxfords. I noticed large, black briefcases by the feet of two of the men but was
unable to see one opened.
The man at the lectern began his sermon, the main theme of which was “the (un)enlightened age of
man.” He began by telling some interesting and amusing anecdotes about the progress of technology. My
favorite story was him contrasting cooking over a wood fire with a microwave today. “Today, you put the
turkey in, push a few buttons, and it’s done! It does everything but eat itself!” He used this contrast to speak
about the difference between those who knew and followed Jehovah and those who lived in “rampant sin”
and “the darkened world.” He spoke about some peoples’ belief in evolutionary theory and contrasted it with
creationism. Another outsider perspective was the belief in God having an “MPD” (multiple personality
disorder) with a distortion in his thought process and sense of reality. He said the primary cause of these
disbeliefs were a lack of knowledge and understanding of the Bible.
He talked about Satan using ministers who preach non-Biblical doctrines and said “Satan can’t use
you unless you let him!” and he brought up predestination, which piqued my attention. He spoke of John
Wayne Gracy and how his “killing and eating of the people” was predestined by God. I was confused and
rather disturbed with this pronouncement and he followed it up by saying “how do you believe in a God like
that?” and I wondered the same thing. Unfortunately, he never explained how you could, or explained an
alternate view of God. So, I’m left with the knowledge that if my brother is tortured and killed, it was meant
by God.
I think the core point of the man’s sermon was intensive study of the direct word of God is required
for true enlightenment. He brought up a story that he was talking with another denomination and he asked
“What did you study in the Bible last?” and they replied “oh last week we covered the book of Revelation!” He
threw up his hands and said “a book of the Bible in a week?! When we study Revelation, it takes us an entire
year!” Nodded heads from the congregation backed his statement. His secondary points were redemption
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through the Word of God and ‘reward for effort’, that by the Witnesses reading the Bible and following the
tenants of their belief, they would receive their prize of eternal peace and salvation with God. The sermon
concluded with one more song, a prayer, and then I was forced to leave as I had to go to work. I would
happily have stayed longer as they were doing a Bible study next and I was enjoying myself with being in a
new situation and looking at it from a sociological point of view.
LEAVING BEHIND THE HOLY LAND
Ricardo followed me out of the sanctuary into the entry hall and thanked me for coming and handed
me a small booklet “What Does the Bible Really Teach?” along with a small piece of paper inviting me to
attend the services again. He asked if I would be interested in receiving a visit, which I respectfully declined,
stating “one of my roommates is absolutely terrified of people,” a perfectly true statement. I would have liked
to talk with them again, but I never know when I will be at my apartment and more than likely they would get
my anti-social roommate who would have absolutely no idea what to do with them. Ricardo also gave me his
wife’s phone number, as he thought I’d be more comfortable with hers than his, we shook hands, he thanked
me again for coming, and I walked out the door to go to work.
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I N THE N AME OF G OD
I was nervous about going to an unfamiliar religious service, especially as I felt almost like a sham or
a fraud – I was attending something that was very important to the regular attendees, whereas I was only
there because a school assignment called for it. I didn’t want to reveal why I was going because not only
would it skew my complete participant role but also and primarily because I felt it would have been insulting
to the Witnesses - that their weekly service and lifestyle was reduced to little more than an academic exercise
for someone. In the end, I genuinely engaged in the service, took notes on the sermon, met people, and
learned as much about the Witnesses as I could and have a desire to go back for more visits which has helped
ease my guilt.
I feel like my extensive background in Christianity helped my understanding of the Witnesses. I was
prepared to accept them as an authentic and legitimate religion and to use my previous experiences to aide
me. As an example, during the sermon the speaker used a couple Bible verses and I knew the order of the
books as well as the method for finding the exact part (chapter and verse). I was also familiar with sitting in
chairs, rising to sing a song, and listening to the sermon, so I feel I was able to focus on what was going
around me, instead of focusing on trying to pass as a legitimate worshiper. I was the sole researcher and I
was unfortunately able to attend more than one service, but in the future I hope to return to the Kingdom Hall
and learn more about the Witnesses’ religion. In this paper, I also changed the names of mentioned people to
protect confidentiality.
The main impression I am left with the Jehovah’s Witnesses is “refuge in religion.” The Witnesses see
the world as a dark and scary place filled with peril and pitfalls. They use their extensive study of the Bible to
give themselves a buffer from the rest of the world. This focus on knowledge of the Bible was seen in all of
the material they gave me where every Bible verse was cross-referenced to other verses speaking on the
same thing and extensive guides on every topic that could be thought of with relevant verses. The Witnesses
were very methodical in everything they did – Ricardo showed me the maps of the Fargo-Moorhead area
divided into dozens and dozens of territories as well as another map that was of all the rural area
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surrounding the two cities. The Moorhead Witnesses’ territory stretches from Crookston to Breckenridge to
Detroit Lakes and they strive to visit each block once a year.
The extensive bookkeeping and list-making and checkboxes done by the members intrigued me.
Ricardo showed me part of the Theocratic Ministry book which listed topics and as he explained it, the
students are assigned a topic and they note the date in the “Date taken” column and when they have
accomplished it they note the date in “Date finished.” The topics included everything from “Using the Bible”
to “Finding Comfort in God” to “Use of Daily Prayer.” The Witnesses’ religion is based on structured order to
maintain the peace in their lives and to avoid the turmoil of the outside world. Everything one does in the
Witnesses follows a certain path and has guidelines to help one feel accomplished and to further separate the
Witness from the outside world. When you see the outside world as a dark and scary place and the inside of
the Kingdom Hall as a place of light, order, and comfort, I find it is easy to understand why some would
choose this religion.