Cult psychologist Richard Turner was no stranger to church. “I was brought up in a church – interestingly my family church’s background is quite culty anyway, but then my parents switched to a Church of England church.” By the time he was 20, Richard had grown into what he calls an “extreme Christian.” Richard says that because of this, he was vulnerable to a cult because he was “already familiar with the language they used.” Richard is also autistic, and feels this is another reason why he was so easily targeted in the cult. 

The downward slope began when Richard was training to be a counsellor. He was hired as a caseworker for City Hearts, a government-funded charity which aimed to protect those who had been victims of human trafficking. The charity was connected to a church network headquartered in Sheffield, with a local branch in Liverpool, where Richard attended.

“It was heavily controlled from Sheffield, and they were trying to build a franchise.”

At first glance, everything appeared polished and vibrant. “Everything looked clean and professional, but behind the scenes, we were getting paid really awful wages and the houses were in awful conditions because they didn’t have any money.”

When describing the people at the church, Richard says they were “really overly-friendly and glassy-eyed. They didn’t seem real.” He experienced lots of love-bombing, which drew him in because he had come from an unsupportive church that caused him to lose his confidence – then, he was being told that he was amazing.The early red flags within the church were easy to miss, Richard says. In the first service, he remembers noticing the church’s obsession with money. “It was very strategic. They’d say things like, ‘If you give us money, God will bless you.’”

He recalls a particularly bizarre moment during one sermon: “The pastor preached about how the church wasn’t controlling, and I remember thinking: ‘Why would you say that?’” They did offerings every single week, and often had entire sermons about giving money. It was a while before Richard realised that something was wrong.

The psychological strain mounted. Weekly services began with 40 minutes of intense singing, followed by a sermon and then a second “offering sermon.” People of the church were encouraged to give beyond their means, even if they were in horrific debt. “I was giving money without even thinking. I didn’t question it.”

He reflects on the psychology behind worship in the church. “People would sing, feel amazing, and go, ‘Oh see, I’m talking to God.’ Well no — you’ve been singing at the top of your voice for 40 minutes and breathing in smoke machines, that’s why you feel amazing.”

Richard describes the experience as being psychologically similar to an abusive relationship. “It was a very lively church with big screens, lots of lights and even smoke machines. They do this to make you feel really high and then they claim it’s the Holy Spirit. You don’t notice the red flags in any obvious way, and they make you feel so emotionally safe.” This meant that if Richard did notice the warning signs, he would dismiss them because those within the church gave him such a strong sense of security.

“One of their brainwashing characteristics is sacred tenets. There’s always got to be this unchallengeable thought… it becomes God. If they say that this is their calling – that’s what God wants them to do – you can’t argue with them.” Outsiders may associate cults with strange rituals or outlandish beliefs, but Richard warns that the reality is more subtle. “People think that cults are weird and wacky but actually, if you break it down mechanically, it is all about coercive control.” The only difference is the wording: “Everything is framed around being done by God – so you doubt yourself.”

“People can create a cult environment wherever they are, because they’re wired that way. A workplace could become a cult. People just don’t use that label.”

The emotional grip of the church’s leadership tightened as Richard’s personal relationships became entangled in their control. Richard began seeing another member of the church, and was made to report back to his supervisor about the relationship’s status. He was not allowed to sleep in the same house as his partner, and the relationship inevitably came to an end.

After this, attempts to communicate were ignored. “I sent her several letters and received no reply. Then one day, I received a typed letter from the church — my name misspelled on the envelope, and the handwriting wasn’t hers. It demanded that I become fully accountable to the leadership. I knew immediately that she was not the one who sent the letter.”

Following the tumultuous breakup, the church began a campaign of silent treatment towards Richard. “People would avoid me at church. I’d sit alone; no one would talk or sit with me. It was like being invisible.”

“When everyone treats you like you’re the problem, you start to believe you’re awful or dangerous. Instead of leaving, you get pulled deeper in.”

During the conversation, Richard showed me a photo of himself - he was unrecognisable. “They pushed a 21-day fast, and then asked for money while people were weak and vulnerable. I fasted and got really ill, but I was so trapped, trying to prove myself to them.”