By Cindy V. Culp

Tribune-Herald staff writer

For nearly two decades, Homestead Heritage has cultivated the reputation of a quiet Christian community rooted in a picturesque stretch of Central Texas, its disciples devoted to a quaint if curious way of life.

Thousands of area residents flock to the group’s property near Chalk Bluff each year to attend holiday fairs or school field trips. Others go to the pastoral grounds to take crafts classes. Homestead Heritage also does business in the Waco area through its successful trade businesses.

Members of Homestead Heritage say their ideas about how Christians should live and behave may be outside the mainstream in contemporary religious society but that such convictions do not make them a cult. Some ex-members, however, disagree. (Rod Aydelotte photo)

A Homestead Divided Audio slide show Reporter Cindy V. Culp discusses the reasons behind, research for and results of the Homestead Heritage story User comments — See what readers had to say about the series Q & A — What is Homestead Heritage? Q & A — How does the group conduct its daily life? In depth — How this story was reported HOMESTEAD HERITAGE SERIES — THE STORIES Part 1: Homestead Heritage fighting to preserve its image Part 2: Former Homestead members, anti-cult group accuse sect of deception, controlling lives Part 3: Homestead Heritage fights back, disputing claims of deception, abuse Homestead Heritage rebuts specific claims What makes a religious group a cult?

Many people are drawn to Homestead Heritage by its simple, agrarian lifestyle. For some, it stirs nostalgia for days gone by. For others, it raises idyllic images of groups like the Amish. Visitors often tell members how lucky they are to have found an alternative to the crushing grind of modern life, an escape from the rat race.

But over the past two years, a growing number of ex-members have used the Internet and word-of-mouth to call that wholesome image into question. Their basic message: Homestead Heritage is not what it appears to be.

The face the group presents to the public is nothing more than a facade, fastidiously engineered to attract new members and draw money, some ex-members say. Beneath that surface, the workings of the group are such that most people would call it a cult, they claim.

The allegations aren’t about violations of the law and thus aren’t anything like the charges leveled against the Branch Davidians, a local apocalyptic group that in 1993 left Waco linked with the word “cult.”

But 12 ex-members interviewed by the Tribune-Herald say Homestead Heritage psychologically and spiritually damaged them to the extent that it constituted abuse. Others echo similar sentiments on Internet message boards — anonymously, in most cases.

To outsiders hearing the discord for the first time, the allegations are jarring, even unbelievable. They seem so contrary to the image Homestead Heritage has crafted for itself.

The ex-members say they’re prepared for the possibility that many people won’t believe them. After all, Homestead Heritage has many friends in the community, from the county sheriff to mothers who home-school.

Q&A: Life & modern conveniences at Homestead Heritage Q Does the group use electricity? A Yes. Q Telephones? A Yes, both land lines and cell phones. Q Television? A No. Members feel much of the content of television programming is unhealthy. But beyond that, they believe the medium itself distracts people from having relationships with one another. Rather than sitting down and watching television, they would rather sit down as a family and tell stories or play music together. Q Do Homestead Heritage members have cars? A Yes. Q Computers? A Yes, many members have computers in their home, but most don't have Internet access. The group does have Internet access at its offices so it can manage its Web page and do a few other tasks. But for the most part, members use computers for school- or work-related reasons. They are not used for entertainment. Q Radio? A No. Q Recorded music? A Yes, though it's mainly Christian-oriented. Q Newspapers, magazines or other periodicals? A Most members do not read them, at least on a regular basis. The main reason is content. They're very cautious about what is brought into homes, especially when young children are present. Also, members feel news consumption has largely become entertainment. They believe they should focus on things they can actually do something about or that affect their lives directly. Just hearing or reading about events that have nothing to do with them is not beneficial, they believe. However, the group does subscribe to dozens of periodicals, which certain leaders read to pass on information to members. Most of these periodicals are journals that examine current events from a reflective standpoint, rather than publications that report breaking news. One member peruses the Waco Tribune-Herald every day to look for information such as burn bans or food recalls. The exception to this pattern is when major events occur such as the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. In such cases, members may choose to read a newspaper or magazine. They probably still wouldn't watch televised news reports because they believe in the power of words and think that words can show things images can actually obscure. Q Do members take photos or use video cameras? A Most families do use still cameras to take family photos, etc. But they don't use video cameras. The feeling is that viewing important life events through the lens of a video camera is inferior to more fully participating in them. The church occasionally has used video cameras to produce materials such as its 25th anniversary DVD. On rare occasions, members also view videos for instructional purposes. Q What about household appliances? A The church does not have a position on appliances. It's up to each family to decide what purchases to make. But most have microwaves, blenders, washing machines, etc. Q&A: What is Homestead Heritage? Q What denomination is Homestead Heritage? A The group does not belong to any denomination. They prefer to just call themselves Christians. However, the group draws heavily from two faith backgrounds. One is the Pentecostal church. Another is Anabaptists. An example of their Pentecostal beliefs is that people speak in tongues after receiving the Holy Spirit. Their Anabaptist leanings are reflected in their simple lifestyle and belief in nonviolence. Q How many members does the group have? A About 900, 500 of whom are adults. Q Where is the group located? A It owns 510 acres in the Chalk Bluff area. Its church and crafts village are located on the land, along with 42 homesteads that house about 270 people. Many other members live on privately owned land nearby, though some live in other parts of the county and even in Austin. The group also has a cattle ranch in Oklahoma that is operated by members. Q Members dress differently. What are the rules? A The overriding principle is modesty, which means not only covering the body but also not drawing attention to it in other ways. That's why members don't wear jewelry, including wedding rings. Some do wear watches, however. Along the same lines, women don't wear makeup and keep their hair uncut and worn up. Dress customs also are gender-specific. Females wear dresses, while males keep their hair short and wear pants and shirts with collars. Q Are there rules for what members can eat? A The group says no foods are banned outright. But members try to follow certain guidelines. They don't believe the dietary rules are religious per se. But they do believe the Bible commands them to be good stewards of their bodies and thus eat as healthily as possible. For that reason, members observe many Old Testament dietary rules, such as not eating pork. They also avoid highly refined products, such as white flour and white sugar. They try to avoid caffeine. If members are guests and these foods are served, however, they will often eat them. And they do eat at restaurants on occasion, even fast food joints. Q Do members go to doctors? A Yes, members sometimes go to the doctor or hospital. But they believe many health issues can be taken care of in the community through common sense or applying traditional cures that have worked for other members in similar circumstances. The philosophy is that doctors and hospitals can be utilized but should not be relied upon. Q Do all members home-school their children? A Yes. The group has been home-schooling since 1977. Much of the curriculum parents use has been written by the group. But for higher grades, families also use other teaching materials that are common in home-school circles. Schooling usually stops at 17, but if the student hasn't mastered all he or she should, it can continue past that. Q Do all members practice home birth? A It is not a requirement, but the vast majority believe that is God's choice for their lives. How this story was reported The Tribune-Herald interviewed 12 former members of Homestead Heritage, spending more than 30 hours hearing their stories. One of those ex-members subsequently asked that his comments not be used, so none of his remarks are included in this series. Although some comments by the ex-members mirror claims made on an Internet message board about Homestead Heritage, none of the information in this series was taken from those message boards unless explicitly stated. Instead, it comes either from interviews or Homestead Heritage literature. The Tribune-Herald also interviewed and received materials from Phil Arnn, a senior researcher with Watchman Fellowship. It describes itself as "an independent, nondenominational Christian research and apologetics ministry focusing on new religious movements, cults, the occult and the New Age." To get Homestead Heritage's viewpoint, the Tribune-Herald contacted Howard Wheeler, a leader there who deals with media inquiries. In response, he set up an interview at which he and 16 other members of the group were present. That interview, conducted on the group's property, lasted 5 hours. Several subsequent interviews with multiple members of the group were held. In all, group members were interviewed for nearly 17 hours. The founder of the group, Blair Adams, was not at any of the meetings. Group members said Adams has been in ill health the past few years and thus was not able to attend. Another source of information involved interviews with experts on religious groups. They were selected from a list of sources provided by the American Academy of Religion, a group of religious scholars that does not endorse nor reject any religious tradition or set of religious beliefs or practices. Finally, the Tribune-Herald interviewed Baylor University seminary professor Roger Olson, who has gotten to know the group over the past nine years and in 2005 wrote an article about Homestead Heritage for a nationally distributed Christian magazine.

But the exes say they feel an obligation to speak out so others aren’t deceived. The Homestead Heritage they know is a place where a crushing workload disrupts children’s education and drains family time, where a dizzying array of rules controls followers and, most importantly, where the religious doctrine is bizarre, even heretical. The stakes of staying silent are simply too high, they say.

Those who speak for Homestead Heritage’s 900 members vehemently deny such accusations. They acknowledge their customs and beliefs are rigid by modern standards. Consequently, some people end up leaving embittered because they can’t cut it.

But following a different lifestyle does not make them a cult, members say. They paint the exes’ campaign as nothing more than religious persecution. Anyone who takes the time to get to know them will learn that most of the ex-members’ tales are either lies or gross distortions of the truth, they say.

Still, Homestead Heritage leaders worry about what effect the allegations might have on them. They point to lies told about blacks and Jews throughout history and note how the prejudice created by such baseless attacks persists, despite the lessons of atrocities such as lynchings and the Holocaust.

In today’s polarized society, it’s easy to believe the worst about those you don’t know, members say. That’s probably especially true in the Waco area, they say, because the city has already been badly scarred by cult activities.

All they ask, Homestead Heritage followers say, is that the place they have called home for 17 years not jump to conclusions.

* * *

Founding members of the religious group that eventually became Homestead Heritage say they left the New York City area to find a better place to raise children. Their mission initially took them to Colorado, but they later settled near Chalk Bluff. (Rod Aydelotte photo)

Homestead Heritage traces its roots back to 1973, when founder Blair Adams and his wife, Regina, went to New York City. They were sent there as domestic missionaries by United Pentecostal Church International, according to Homestead Heritage leaders.

Adams was born in El Paso in 1944. His path to ministry didn’t start until his college years at the University of Texas in Austin. He originally started there in the early 1960s, studying English and philosophy, but his schooling was interrupted when he joined the Army in 1966.

He served in the electronic intelligence branch for four years, then returned to UT to finish his degree. But shortly after he returned to school, Adams became a Christian in a Pentecostal church. He then preached at various churches around the country for about two and a half years before taking on the New York mission.

Once there, Adams and his wife lived in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood of Manhattan, known for its rough-and-tumble ways and its connections to organized crime. They named their ministry “Voice in the Wilderness” and began reaching out to people in the area, church leaders say. Although they had been sent by a Pentecostal denomination, the mission itself was nondenominational.

About two years later, the Adamses started another church across the river in New Jersey. A couple of years after that, about 1978, church members began to feel a pull toward an agrarian-based lifestyle, longtime member Joel Stein says.

That desire arose partly from their belief that children would be better raised away from the big city, Stein says. Also, Adams’ Bible interpretations led him to conclude that church should be a whole way of life, not just a place where people come once or twice a week, says Howard Wheeler, another longtime member of the group and its unofficial spokesman.

At first, followers pursued their new mission by taking up such practices as planting backyard gardens. Before long, however, it became clear that Adams and his adherents needed more space to fulfill their dreams, and members decided to move to Colorado.

The transition to the American West began in fall 1979. The cross-country journey took longer for some than others as members had homes to sell, jobs to leave. But within a year, all of the followers had gathered at their ranch in Delta County, where they began learning the skills needed for their new life.

Books were a primary source of information, Wheeler says. People with knowledge of crafts also helped teach the group.

After a while, members developed ties with some Christians in Texas who had heard about Adams’ followers and were interested in learning from them, Wheeler says. Leaders eventually started commuting to the Lone Star state — first to San Antonio, then Austin, finally Waco.

Forged largely through friendships with local home-schoolers, the meetings in Waco were held as early as 1981 but didn’t gain any regularity until 1986, Wheeler says.

From the start, Adams’ followers were impressed with the Waco area, Wheeler says. Not only was the countryside beautiful but the people were warm and family-friendly.

“It was love at first sight,” he says.

So in 1990, when a local Baptist church that was dissolving offered its building to Homestead Heritage, the group opted to settle here permanently, Wheeler says. Members began seeking land, and by April had settled on 350 acres in the Chalk Bluff area.

At the time, the group had about 500 members. Only about 200 lived in the Waco area. Others lived in Austin, driving here for services.

Most have since moved to McLennan County, church leaders say. Today Homestead Heritage has a membership of about 900 people. Its property has expanded to about 510 acres.

When the group first arrived in Waco, it went by the name “Koinonia.” But in 1993 it adopted the name Homestead Heritage because Waco residents were confused by the previous name, Greek for “fellowship” or “communion.” The group also had gone by such names as New Life Fellowship and Emmaus Christian Fellowship at different points in its past.

Just as Homestead Heritage was getting settled, the siege at the nearby Branch Davidian compound in 1993 erupted, putting Adams’ disciples under scrutiny, Wheeler says. At one point, the group was even mistaken for the law-breaking cult by an out-of-town news agency. But the response Homestead Heritage got from local residents was one of continued acceptance, further deepening its connection to Waco, he says.

“It really meant something to realize that everyone wouldn’t paint everything different . . . with the same brush,” Wheeler says.

More than 14,000 people attended Homestead Heritage's post-Thanksgiving fair last year. Some ex-members say the event is a good example of how the group fools the public and engages in deception. (Rod Aydelotte photo)

Central Texas has gotten to know Homestead Heritage primarily through its annual holiday festivals. The main one comes just after Thanksgiving, a tradition that began in Colorado in 1988.

Last year, the festival drew 14,000 people from 36 states and seven countries, Wheeler says. In all, more than a quarter-million people have come to the fair over the years.

At the event, visitors can buy a wide variety of food and gift items made by Homestead Heritage members, as well as heirloom-quality furniture. They also can watch demonstrations of everything from old-fashioned blacksmithing to basket-weaving.

Homestead Heritage also holds a celebration each Labor Day when sorghum is harvested and turned into syrup. It hosts school field trips each spring and offers year-round classes that teach such skills as woodworking and quilting. Six days a week, the group also operates a popular deli and bakery, offering everything from brisket sandwiches to homemade ice cream.

Homestead Heritage also interacts with the surrounding area through the businesses its members own, such as a trucking company and a plumbing business. A member-owned company even helped build the house on President Bush’s 1,600-acre ranch near Crawford.

Although those businesses are privately owned, members don’t consider them as being completely apart from the group, Wheeler says. Only 20 percent of adult members work directly for the church, either in agriculture or a business such as the deli. Nearly everyone else works in a member-owned business.

These employment arrangements are in sync with the group’s overall mission of living in community, Wheeler says. One driving force behind their lifestyle, followers say, is to provide and care for one another instead of having to rely on an “impersonal economy.”

That’s why Homestead Heritage adherents have learned to keep their own gardens and bake their own bread. It’s also why they help one another have babies at home or make attempts to care for those who are ill before going to the doctor, Wheeler says.

While Homestead Heritage’s beliefs don’t completely mirror those of any other religious following, it has adopted many customs and some doctrine from Anabaptists, members say. Living in community is the bedrock of those beliefs, along with living simply and in a way that allows people to encounter creation as God intended, says Homestead Heritage member Abraham Adams, one of the founder’s sons.

Those beliefs trickle down into daily life in numerous ways. For example, members observe certain dress rules, such as men wearing only collared shirts and women not wearing pants.

Such rules are embraced not because church officials believe they’re necessary for salvation, though they believe they’re scripturally rooted, Wheeler says. Rather, they see wisdom in putting aside self-centered tastes to preserve the unity of the group.

“We have agreed upon an identity,” Wheeler says.

Similarly, limits are put on modern conveniences because Homestead Heritage followers believe technology can take away from their relationships with creation and one another. That’s why they use draft horses to farm instead of tractors and why computers are used only for school or work tasks rather than for entertainment or communication, they say.

To them, such limitations give group members the best of all possible worlds. Technology shouldn’t be spurned, they say, but it shouldn’t control either.

“We want to control how much it influences our lives,” says 30-year-old member Dan Lancaster.

* * *

Homestead Heritage leaders say they understand many people find their customs curious, if not outright bizarre. They also know local residents, especially Christians in certain denominations, may take issue with some of their theology.

That’s OK, they say. All they ask is that they be allowed to live according to their beliefs, as others do.

Until recently, that approach worked well, members say. Homestead Heritage has been able to thrive and make friends throughout the community. They range from home-schooling parents and Baylor University professors to such officials as McLennan County Sheriff Larry Lynch and Waco Convention and Visitors Bureau employees.

But during the past two years, the group has come under attack, Homestead Heritage followers say. Although ex-members are doing most of the talking, the group believes the real force behind the offensive is a self-proclaimed anti-cult organization called Watchman Fellowship.

Founded in 1979, Watchman Fellowship has offices in seven states, including Texas. The organization describes itself as an “independent, nondenominational Christian research and apologetics ministry focusing on new religious movements, cults, the occult and the New Age.” Apologetics is the branch of theology concerned with the defense or proof of Christianity.

Watchman Fellowship makes no secret of the fact that it judges whether a group is a cult based on theological beliefs rather than sociological factors. Thus, its cult label is not reserved just for sects such as the Branch Davidians or Jim Jones’ Peoples Temple. It also is applied to Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, among others.

Homestead Heritage first heard of Watchman Fellowship in 1993, Wheeler says. That’s when a woman who wrote home-schooling materials became fearful Homestead Heritage was trying to encroach on her business and got some of the group’s literature to read. Based on theological disagreements she had with some of the material, she reported the group to Watchman Fellowship.

Howard Wheeler, a longtime member of Homestead Heritage, serves as the group's unofficial spokesman, articulating its mission and fending off allegations from ex-members that Homestead Heritage is not all that it appears to be. (Rod Aydelotte photo)

Then, in 1997, a man who was associated with Homestead Heritage for a time left the group and contacted Watchman Fellowship. He was never a member, Wheeler says, because he refused to conform to the way of life. But he claimed to know all about the group.

The man showed up at Homestead Heritage’s Thanksgiving fair that year in a van emblazoned with a sign that had the word “cult” and Watchman Fellowship’s telephone number on it. Since then, Watchman Fellowship has made Homestead Heritage its “cause célèbre,” Wheeler says, and has attempted to contact and recruit anyone who leaves the group.

The result: a decided change in how some ex-members view Homestead Heritage, Wheeler says. When most of them left, they still held the group in high regard. Now, he says, they call it a cult and lie about what the group believes.

Watchman Fellowship has done work beneficial to the Christian community, Wheeler says. But Homestead Heritage’s experience with the organization has been nothing but a witch hunt, he says.

In particular, Wheeler faults Phillip Arnn, a senior researcher for Watchman Fellowship in charge of gathering information about Homestead Heritage. Like many who are part of the “anti-cult movement,” Arnn has virtually run out of real cults to hunt, Wheeler says, and now focuses on religious groups that don’t share his doctrinal views.

Noting that Arnn is in poor health, Wheeler says Arnn has made it his mission to ruin Homestead Heritage before he quits working.

“The last trophy he wants is to bring us down,” Wheeler says.

cculp@wacotrib.com

757-5744

See Monday’s Tribune-Herald for Part Two of “A Homestead Divided” to learn why some ex-members joined Homestead Heritage — and the troubling factors they say caused them to leave.