Cult Church 'Messiah' wanted to bed 7 virgins
Pastor Dale Morgan
Cult Church 'Messiah' wanted to bed 7 virgins*
* Story Highlights
* Wayne Bent says God anointed him "Messiah" in 2000
* He leads the Lord Our Righteousness Church, a sect in New Mexico
* Social workers took two girls and a boy from sect's compound
* Bent also goes by the name Michael Travesser
CLAYTON, New Mexico (AP) -- For 16 years, he followed a man who calls
himself Michael, finally settling along with other families on a former
ranch in a remote corner of New Mexico.
John Sayer talks about his experience as a member of an apocalyptic
church he left in 2005.
There were red flags along the way, but John Sayer didn't break away
from the apocalyptic church until late 2005.
Michael "said God told him that he was supposed to sleep with seven
virgins," recalled Sayer, 36. Two were to be Sayer's daughters, then 14
and 15.
"I just told him no. ... I'm not in agreement. I don't see it's right,"
Sayer said.
Sayer, his wife and daughters left the compound, although his daughters
returned. His youngest was still living there when she was removed by
the state Children, Youth and Families Department last week, Sayer said.
Two girls and one boy, all under 18, were taken from the compound amid
allegations of inappropriate contact between minors and the sect's
66-year-old leader. State officials are investigating. Sayer said he's
spoken with his daughter by phone, but has been advised not to discuss
the state custody case.
State District Judge John Paternoster has issued a gag order. Romaine
Serna, a spokeswoman for the Children, Youth and Families Department,
said she could not discuss the custody status of the three children.
Sayer said Michael Travesser -- whose real name is Wayne Bent -- did
sleep with seven virgins, but all were over 18 and did not include his
daughters.
However, Sayer said his daughters "lay naked" with Michael, although
they said no sex was involved. He said he doubts his daughters were
molested, but "anything's possible."
Bent, who said God anointed him Messiah in July 2000, wrote in a posting
Wednesday on the church's Web site: "There was never any child
molestation, or adult molestation by anyone, including myself. There has
never been `sex with minors' or anything remotely approaching that."
District Attorney Donald Gallegos said Thursday the investigation
stemmed from a tip.
"I believe it was one of the parents -- who no longer are at the
compound -- had a concern that led to the investigation by the
department, which later involved the removal of the children," he said.
Sayer's younger daughter, using the name "Healed," wrote in a December
2007 posting on the church's Web site: "Michael DID NOT molest me, and
my laying with him was not sexual in any way, either. Michael sacrificed
himself and was willing to look like a pedophile so that I might be
bonded inseparably to the Father in Heaven."
Bent's Lord Our Righteousness Church settled in 2000 in northeastern New
Mexico near the Colorado line, where flatter ranch land gives way to
tree-studded rock outcroppings. Families in the compound live in
recreational vehicles, tents and modular buildings scattered across the
property.
On Thursday, handwritten "No Trespassing" signs hung on gates to the
property, and there were few signs of life. An occasional vehicle kicked
up dust on the compound's roads. A man walking across the property waved
at reporters trying to get his attention.
Bent has declined interview requests.
Clayton residents say the sect's bearded men and women in long denim
skirts had a mellow relationship with the town. They came to pick up
food -- mostly fruits and vegetables -- from the Ranch Market, the
closest big grocery store.
"They've been very nice. ... Overall, they've been very easy neighbors,"
said Brian Moore, who owns the market and has dealt with members of the
church since they arrived in the area.
Janet Brawley, the market's assistant manager, said some compound
residents worked outside jobs, with the men doing remodeling or
construction and the women doing housework.
"One lady told me they're not allowed to put what they believe on other
people," Brawley said. "I've never heard of them trying to convert anyone."
Sayer, who worked as a carpenter, said life at the compound called
Strong City was hard, although he recalls some happy times.
"There was a lot of going out and walking and being alone," he said.
There were no TVs, but there were computers. Jewelry and makeup were
banned, as was meat.
Raised a Seventh-day Adventist and drawn to Bent's offshoot church when
his parents became involved, Sayer said at first The Lord Our
Righteousness Church was "normal in my eyes."
But he said Bent, whom he described as quiet, nice and smart, got
weirder around 1999. "He was claiming to be God," Sayer said.
Sayer, whose mother and sister live at the compound, believes the three
children seized by the state were the only minors there. He said Bent
told families with small children to leave in 2005 because some
youngsters were disobedient -- playing with toys, for example, which was
not allowed.
He said the community, which numbered around 80 people when it moved to
New Mexico from Sand Point, Idaho, is down to about 50.
"They're in their own heaven on earth," Sayer said. "They say they're on
the sea of glass. Their lives are transparent. ... They do what the
Father wants them to do."
He said Bent has told him God talks to everybody at the ranch. "I can't
judge it," Sayer said. "Every person's got their own relationship with
God."