Christian worship services are usually carried openly outward to inspire people. This is different. Insights into a conspired community.
Sunday. We know that the Shinchonji sect worships on the third or fourth floor. All doors are closed. Back in the foyer we notice the clues showing which company is on which floor. We read company names of insurance agents, lawyers and engineers. There is supposedly nobody on the second floor. Here a sect is supposed to celebrate worship? Now we know where to go. That will be it. Two doors, the second one is milk glazed. It’s the only one in the whole house you can’t see through. Behind it we hear a voice telling about the church through a microphone. We knock. No answer. Our heart beats faster than after a ten-kilometre run and our hands are sweaty. Our whole body tells us not to go in there. Before we go in, we go through our camouflage identity again to be on the safe side.
The day before. We are sitting in an Asian snack bar in downtown Frankfurt. We just got off the phone with Anna. Anna actually has a different name. The 27-year-old left the Shinchonji sect three months ago and therefore wants to remain anonymous. She tells us the place and time of the sect service. After the conversation we write a message to Oliver Koch. He is the Weltanschauungsbeauftragter of the Protestant Church and an expert on the South Korean sect Shinchonji. We tell him about our project. „Don’t give out any personal data about yourself,“ he warns.
We’re thinking about our new identity over fried rice. Do we rather pass as business economists or archaeologists? We reject both. Then we play through the different scenarios we expect tomorrow. If it gets too tricky, we simply say that we have to get to the train. A simple contingency plan, but that should do it. From Theresa and Judith we make Franziska and Katharina. The rest is improvised. Courage to fill the gap.
We are standing in an office building in the middle of Frankfurt. The house has five floors and in the middle an oval window front through which you can look into the stairwell. It seems out of place in this residential area. Can we just go in there? Who does that?
We force ourselves not to think any further, open the door and stand in front of a young man with a broad grin. He animates us to enter with flailing arms. He puts the chairs in a new position for us. People turn around to us. Some lift an eyebrow, most smile at us excessively broadly.
We are sitting in a sterile room. The bright neon light emphasizes the sparse furnishings even more. A beamer projects Bible passages onto the wall. Next to it is a desk with a microphone and a wooden cross behind it. Houseplants are lined up on the windowsill. This doesn’t make the room any more comfortable.
We estimate the people sitting next to us to be 20 to 35 years old. Some of them have a block in their hands and take notes. While the preacher is speaking, their gaze sticks to his lips, they nod their consent almost continuously. The preacher wears a white shirt, a blue checked tie and is no older than the rest. „Amen“ sounds through the room. Here there is no humming like in the village church, but the faithful call euphorically. Probably many don’t even know that they are in a sect service. If we ask, our camouflage would be blown.
We know from Oliver Koch that the founder of Shinchonji, Man-hee Lee, considers himself physically immortal. He is the returning pastor of the end times and the only person who can decipher the Bible correctly. His followers believe him, although Lee is already 87 years old and has several hospitalizations behind him. During a research trip to South Korea Koch saw photos showing the frail Man-hee Lee in a wheelchair.
Man-hee Lee founded Shinchonji after having a revelation that instructed him to establish the twelve tribes of Israel of the kingdom of God. Each tribe should have 12,000 members. Shinchonji runs over 300 Bible schools worldwide with the goal of missionizing as many people as possible. The 144,000 elect are to rule over „the new heaven and the new earth“ after the Apocalypse. According to Koch, there are already 300,000 „believers“.
To solve this problem, there are written exams to filter the chosen ones, Koch explains. This puts enormous pressure on the members. Those who don’t do so well will be governed by the 144,000. All those who do not belong to the sect will end up in eternal damnation.
We feel observed. We feel that we are being stared at. Behind us are seven people watching the worshipers. Does that just seem strange to us? „What is your favourite actor,“ the preacher says, involving everyone. Nobody says anything for a long time, shy laughter. The embarrassing silence reminds us of countless unanswered questions from teachers at school.
„Johnny Depp“ finally suggests one of the believers and the man on the microphone tries to make friends over the Caribbean pirate. A flood of questions should make us think about how well we know our best friend. „Do you know his birthplace, his favorite color, favorite flower?“ asks the man behind the desk. Nobody can answer all the questions. We are out with the flower, too. And that’s exactly how it is with the connection to God, he says. No one really knows God. „You all love God, right?“
Without being asked, two young men and a woman get up and make their way forward. The woman announces praise. She speaks just like the preacher before. The sentences have the same structure, she even emphasizes in similar places. Why does everyone speak the same way here?
„No wonder,“ Anna says. „They spend almost the whole week together. The young woman sits cross-legged on her bed and tells. She attended a Bible school in Frankfurt and didn’t know for weeks that Shinchonji members were teaching this course. A friend who was already there aroused her curiosity. Anna wanted to get to know the Bible better. So it didn’t take long before she decided to participate and started the course: four days a week, half a year.
For most members, the Bible course is the entrance to Shinchonji. Those who pass through and pass it are at the end a „sealed one“ and are introduced to the views of Man-hee Lee. Once one is initiated, one puts all one’s time into missionizing new members. „In addition, ’sealed‘ people have to give ten percent of their net income to the sect,“ says Koch. Anna doesn’t know anything about all this when she sits in the office building for the first time on Monday after Pentecost. Sunday services take place here. She remembers the first time she entered the premises. The people were dressed up very nicely. „With a blouse and all.“
Every evening a different theme is on the programme. One of the first is entitled „Good and Evil“. This subdivision is characteristic of Shinchonji. Evil already reigns over our earth in the form of Satan. He sits on his throne and has a negative effect on us through our loved ones. „Satan wants to dissuade you from learning the truth. Who will he use to stop you? Your friends and family, of course, because he can best influence you through them,“ the teachers preached.
In the brightly lit, sterile room the last words of the „Our Father“ fade away. For the first time we can participate in the divine service. We disappear for a short moment into anonymity. After that the service is over and everyone is packing their things. We reach for our backpacks, hoping to continue to sink into the mixture. In the door frame, the man with the all too wide grin awaits us from the beginning. „Hi, what is your name? How did you hear about us?“ We introduce ourselves as Kathi and Franzi.
„Who do you know about us?“ Once again this question. We were addressed at the university, we say. We notice that they want a concrete name, but we don’t have one. „Who came too late,“ asks the preacher and stands by us. „No, fun,“ he laughs. The friendliness is unpleasant.
Shinchonji tries to isolate the people and strategically to avoid that their dubious doctrine is allowed to leak out. Anna finds the anonymity in which the group moves particularly strange. Why is there no homepage? Are there any flyers? And why don’t you have a bell shield? The cult winds itself out. Lack of capacity, flyers are out and the landlord is to blame.
The dangerous thing about Shinchonji is that they never act with their real name, says Oliver Koch. In Frankfurt, the sect changes its name regularly. „Bible College“ and „Frankfurter Friedensgemeinde“ are just two of the camouflage organizations. As soon as critical information about one of the institutions becomes known, it changes its name immediately or has been submerged for a long time. Internationally Shinchonji hides behind the „International Peace Youth Group“ and the „International Women’s Peace Group“.
„Peace‘ and ‚youth‘ are words with which people associate something positive. Nobody suspects anything problematic behind them,“ Koch explains. This tactic works so well that even Angela Merkel had herself photographed with cult members in the 2013 election campaign. The sect wore CDU T-shirts. Only those who can read the signs of the sect can recognise them in this context. Therefore, according to the expert, one must always be critical and question: „What are these backgrounds that are used to promote peace and justice?
Anna’s teacher from the Bible course urges for more frequent meetings, asks her to leave professional seminars sooner. The massive exertion of pressure is typical of the sect. Koch tells of dropouts where missionaries were constantly calling and even standing outside their front door trying to invade.
Luckily Anna is still at the beginning and makes the jump in time. After she learns that Shinchonji is behind her Bible course, she confronts the teachers. They involve her so cleverly in a conversation that she doesn’t even manage to formulate her accusation. „They wanted to guide my thinking and acting,“ Anna remembers. Only at the second meeting do the members finally admit that they belong to the sect.
People wouldn’t come if they knew in advance, they justify themselves. „If you stop now, you have understood nothing and you see it all wrong,“ they accuse Anna. But she remains hard and leaves. Her personal teacher contacted her shortly afterwards. Anna sits with her hands in her lap on her bed and remembers: „After the meeting came a very bad news, in which it was quoted with biblical passages that I will end up in hell.
For the third time we are asked: „What is your name and how do you know about us? This time from the preacher. It’s damn hard for two to keep a single lie going. We are from Bavaria and would study sociology in Frankfurt. „Oh, sociology? I am in my fourth semester. Are you also doing a propaedeutic?“ says another far too broad smile, this time from a woman. Within a few minutes we are outnumbered.
„If you have a number for me, we could keep in touch!“ Oliver Koch’s warning is ringing in our ears: „Don’t give out any personal data about yourself! The point at which we had the situation under control has long since passed. We can hardly spin the false identities any further. The smiling faces are turning more and more into critical ones. They try to involve and separate us in two different conversations. In panic, we try to distance ourselves from the cult members. „We have to get to the train“, we say and push our way past the baffled people to the door. In the stairwell we dare not say a word. Then we are finally outside. We want to get to the train towards the city centre as fast as possible. But in front of us goes a young woman. She was also in church service. We can’t do that, we can’t speak behind her. We turn right to the traffic light and cross the street. The tension finally drops. That was the longest half hour of our lives.
