Ep.14 The Process Church of the Final Judgment

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:24):
Welcome to Hidden Cults, the podcast that shines a light
into the shadows. Here we explore the strange, the secretive,
and the spiritually seductive. From fringe religions to doomsday prophets,
from communes to corporate empires. These are the movements that
promised meaning and sometimes delivered something far more dangerous. I'm
your host, and in each episode we uncover the true
stories behind the world's most controversial cults, the leaders who

(00:47):
led them, the followers who followed, and the echoes they
left behind. If you or someone you care about has
been impacted by a cult, you're not alone. There is help.
Whether you're still inside a cult or trying to process
what you've been through, support is out there. You can
find organizations and hotlines in the description of this episode.
You deserve freedom, healing, and a life that's truly your own.

(01:10):
Reach out. The first step is often the hardest, but
it's also the most powerful. If you'd like to share
your story and experiences with a cult, you can email
it to me and I will read it on a
future Listener Stories episode. Your anonymity is guaranteed always today's episode,
let's begin the processed Church of the final Judgment, Part one.

(01:32):
Robert Moore entered the world in nineteen thirty five in Shanghai,
a city unlike any other in Asia at the time.
It was a place carved into distinct zones of control,
with the British, French, Americans, and other colonial powers maintaining
their own districts, then a police forces and administrations. These
foreign enclaves operated under separate laws, a bizarre patchwork of

(01:53):
governance that allowed the wealthy expatriate elite to live a
life almost entirely insulated from the majority Chinese population. Beyond
the grand facades of consulates and the shaded verandas of
colonial houses lay streets dense with life vendors shouting above
the rattle of rickshaw wheels, the air thick with coal

(02:14):
smoke from the countless stoves that burned through the day
and into the night. Robert's father, a British Army officer,
was stationed there during a time when the Empire still
projected confidence in its overseas holdings, even as its grip
was beginning to loosen. His work came with both privilege
and instability. The family lived in modest quarters within the

(02:36):
International Settlement, a neighborhood, where British customs and manners were
transplanted wholesale into the humid air of the Chinese coast.
His mother brought her own middle class upbringing from England
to the role of an officer's wife, keeping the household
orderly and presentable, no matter the conditions outside their front door.
In these earliest years, Robert absorbed a clear sense of

(02:59):
higher servants handled the domestic labor. Uniformed officers commanded respect
wherever they walked, and there was an unspoken division between
those who made decisions and those who carried them out.
The rules were not written down for a child to read,
but they were demonstrated every day in countless small interactions.
Who spoke first, who deferred, who had the final word.

(03:23):
By the late nineteen thirties, the political landscape in China
was deteriorating rapidly. Japan's military ambitions had already sparked the
Second Sino Japanese War, and tensions within Shanghai were rising.
Even the supposedly secure international settlements could no longer guarantee
safety for the moors. The decision was made to leave,

(03:44):
returning to England before the violence could reach them. Directly.
Robert was still too young to fully comprehend the danger,
but the journey home left its own impression. The familiar sounds, colors,
and smells of Shanghai vanished, replaced by the cold, dampness
of Britain, a place still marked by the economic scars
of the Great Depression and bracing for another war. Life

(04:08):
in England did not bring stability. Robert's father's military role
meant frequent relocations, each move requiring a new adjustment to
a different school, neighborhood, and set of classmates. These constant
shifts taught Robert to watch before acting. He learned to
read the culture of each new school, who held sway
among the students, which teachers demanded obedience, and where the

(04:31):
invisible lines of authority lay. Teachers often described him as
intelligent and capable of deep concentration, though sometimes distant classmates
found him reserved, even difficult to read, a boy who
seemed to hold something back. This early training in observation
and adaptation became part of his psychological foundation. He was

(04:52):
comfortable in systems with clear rules, but he also began
to imagine himself as someone who could shape those systems
from within. His mind worked in terms of structure and order,
but there was a growing sense that he was not
meant to follow forever. When the time came to choose
a profession, Robert settled on architecture. It was a discipline

(05:13):
that married creativity with precision, vision with rigorous planning. In London,
he immersed himself in the technical and artistic demands of
the field. Drafting boards, rulers and compasses became his daily tools.
He learned to think in terms of balance, proportion, and
how individual components fit together into a coherent whole. Architecture

(05:34):
suited his need for structure, but it also revealed his
limitations within it. Buildings, once completed, were fixed. They could
be beautiful, but they could not adapt to the will
of their creator in the way that human systems could.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he began to
entertain the thought that perhaps his true calling was not

(05:54):
in shaping physical spaces, but in shaping people. While Robert's
life moved within the boundaries of military order and middle
class stability, Mary Anne maclean's early years were forged in
an entirely different environment. She was born in nineteen thirty
one in Glasgow, Scotland into a working class family that
understood hardship as an everyday reality. Glasgow in the nineteen

(06:17):
thirties was an industrial powerhouse, its docks and shipyards churning
out steel and ships, its air carrying the grit of
coal dust. The city's tenements were crowded, noisy, and often unsanitary,
and it was in one of these that mary Anne
spent her childhood. Her father's work was irregular, some weeks
in the shipyards, others spent scrambling for whatever labor he

(06:40):
could find. Her mother managed the household with strict efficiency,
stretching every penny to keep the family fed and clothed.
Privacy was scarce in the cramped tenement, and the young
mary Anne quickly learned to assert herself in order to
be heard. She developed a sharp wit, a quickness to
assess people's intentions, and a willingness to you U use

(07:00):
that insight to her advantage. Even as a child, she
had a presence that drew notice. Dark haired and strong featured,
she carried herself with a confidence that seemed out of
place in someone so young. That confidence was born less
from security and more from necessity. In the crowded competitive
environment of working class Glasgow. Passivity was a liability. As

(07:22):
she entered her teenage years, Maryanne's restlessness grew. The path
laid out for most girls in her neighborhood was narrow,
early marriage, children, and a lifetime of scraping by. She
wanted something else. The war years had brought both hardship
and a glimpse of a wider world through the stories
of soldiers, sailors, and visiting relatives. She began to see
Glasgow not as home, but as a cage. In her

(07:46):
late teens, she made the leap to London. Postwar London
was a city of contrasts. Bomb damage buildings still stood
as grim reminders of the Blitz, but new construction projects
were beginning to change the skyline. Rationing was coming to
an end, and the cultural life of the city was
starting to revive. For mary Anne, the move was as
much about escape as it was about opportunity. She took

(08:08):
work wherever she could find it, clerical positions, shop assistant roles,
and even brief stints in modeling. Her adaptability served her well.
She learned to shift her mannerisms, speech, and appearance to
match the company she was in. She gravitated toward environments
where charm and quick thinking could open doors. She also

(08:28):
began to understand the importance of cultivating relationships with people
who could offer her access to new circles of influence.
In the nineteen fifties, she traveled to the United States
and spent time in Miami. The city was in the
midst of a post war boom, its beaches and hotels
attracting tourists and celebrities, its night life fueled by both

(08:48):
legitimate business and organized crime. Mary Anne navigated this environment
with the same skill she had honed in London. She
observed how influence operation in different contexts, how loyalty could
be traded like currency, and how power often rested on
perception as much as reality. By the time she returned

(09:09):
to London, she carried herself with a quiet authority. She
knew that influence could be built not just on wealth
or status, but on the ability to read people, anticipate
their moves, and position oneself advantageously. She was not yet
sure what form her ambitions would take, but she understood
that they would require a platform, a system that rewarded

(09:29):
her instincts for leadership and control. By the early nineteen sixties,
Robert and mary Anne were still strangers, moving in separate worlds,
but toward a shared destination. Robert was growing restless in
the confines of architecture, increasingly drawn to systems of thought
that addressed the human mind and spirit. Mary Anne was

(09:50):
looking for a space where ambition could be rewarded outside
the rigid hierarchies of class. Both would find what they
were looking for in a movement that was just beginn
to gain traction in Britain, the Church of Scientology. It
would be there that their paths would cross, setting in
motion a partnership that would create one of the most
unusual and controversial religious movements of the twentieth century. But

(10:14):
before that meeting, each had been shaped by the worlds
They came from, Robert by the order and hierarchy of
his upbringing, mary Anne by the resourcefulness and ambition forged
in a life of scarcity. Together, these influences would form
the backbone of the Processed Church's ideology and its leadership style.
The London Robert returned to after his time in Shanghai

(10:36):
and his years of schooling was a city that carried
the weight of its history while trying to define its future.
The scars of the Second World War were everywhere, entire
streets where bomb sites still lay vacant, their rubble long
since cleared, but their absence a silent reminder of nights
spent under the German bombing raids. Yet at the same

(10:56):
time there was an optimism rising. The Festival of Britain
in nineteen fifty one had signaled a determination to rebuild,
to reimagine British identity for the modern age. Architecture, Robert's
chosen field was part of that project, but while he
appreciated the discipline's esthetic and intellectual challenges, he felt an

(11:16):
itch that his profession could not scratch. By the late
nineteen fifties, his professional life was steady but uninspiring. He
worked on projects that were more functional than visionary, and
he was beginning to feel hemmed in by the limitations
of his role. Robert was drawn to questions that architecture
could not answer about the structure of human relationships, the

(11:40):
nature of authority, and how individuals could be transformed by ideas.
The design of a building was a finite task. Once
the blueprints were finalized and the concrete poured, the creative
work was over, but the design of a social or
spiritual system that was something alive, mutable, capable of growing
and unexpected directs under the guidance of its architect. Robert

(12:03):
had begun reading widely in philosophy, psychology, and esoteric traditions.
He was not drawn to mysticism for its own sake,
but to the idea that human thought and behavior could
be shaped with as much precision as bricks and mortar.
The works of Carl Jung, with their emphasis on archetypes
and the collective unconscious, fascinated him. Jung's exploration of the shadow,

(12:25):
the hidden, often darker aspects of the psyche, resonated with
Robert's own sense that transformation required confronting uncomfortable truths. His
personal life during these years was private, almost guarded. Those
who knew him professionally described him as meticulous, self contained,
and capable of holding a room's attention when he chose

(12:46):
to speak, but there was little warmth in his public persona.
He was not unfriendly, but he seemed to hold himself
at a deliberate distance, as though watching from just beyond
the circle of light. This detachment was not indifference, it
was observation. The same habit he had cultivated as a boy,
moving from one school to another, learning the rules before

(13:09):
deciding how to play the game. While Robert was dissecting
ideas in the libraries and quiet corners of London, mary
Anne was moving through the city in a completely different way.
For her, the streets were not just scenery, they were
an arena. She had a talent for entering a room
and quickly identifying who mattered, who could be useful, and

(13:29):
who could be safely ignored. This was not cold calculation
for its own sake. It was survival strategy elevated to
an art form. Her years in Miami had refined that skill.
The city's social life in the nineteen fifties revolved around
a few key industries, tourism, entertainment, and the undercurrents of
organized crime that facilitated both. It was a place where

(13:52):
appearances could be deceiving, where a man in a tailored
suit could be a banker, a nightclub owner, or a
mob lieutenant, and sometimes all three. Mary Anne learned to
navigate these blurred lines with caution and confidence, extracting opportunity
without entangling herself in unnecessary risk. When she returned to London,

(14:12):
she brought that same strategic sensibility with her. The city
was changing. The rigid class lines that had once defined
every interaction were beginning to loosen, especially in the emerging
youth culture. Coffee bars, jazz clubs, and fringe theater productions
were creating spaces where the old rules did not fully apply.

(14:33):
For someone like Marianne, this was fertile ground. She could
move between worlds, the working class neighborhoods she had come from,
the fashionable circles she was edging into, without losing her
footing in either. Psychologically, she carried a core belief that
control was the key to security, not just control over
her circumstances, but over the perceptions and emotions of those

(14:55):
around her. Influence was not a static thing to be
gained and kept. It was a living currency, and she
knew how to spend it Wisely. She was also developing
a tolerance for risk, the understanding that sometimes stepping into
the unknown was the only way to secure a better position.
Both Robert and mary Anne were, in their own ways,

(15:15):
looking for a framework, a set of ideas and practices
that could both explain the world and offer them a
means to shape it. For Robert that search was primarily intellectual.
For Marianne, it was instinctive and tactical. Neither yet knew
the other existed, but they were already on parallel tracks
toward a collision. The early nineteen sixties saw the arrival

(15:36):
in Britain of a new spiritual export from America, the
Church of Scientology, founded by l Ron Hubbard. Scientology presented
itself as a scientific approach to the mind, a set
of processes that could free individuals from the psychological burdens
of their past and unlock their full potential. It was hierarchical,
precise in its terminology, and ambitious in its scope, qualities

(15:59):
that appealed strongly to Robert. For mary Anne, its appela
and the promise of mastery, both of oneself and potentially
over others. In those days, Scientology's public image in Britain
was still forming. Its courses attracted a mix of the curious,
the idealistic, and the ambitious. There were introductory lectures that

(16:20):
promised glimpses of deeper truths, drills and exercises designed to
sharpen focus, and the now famous auditing sessions that claimed
to strip away the mental residue. Of past traumas. The
organization's internal structure was both rigid and full of possibility
for those willing to dedicate themselves. Robert's first encounters with
Scientology came through acquaintances who had taken its courses and

(16:42):
spoke about them with an almost evangelical enthusiasm. He attended
his first lectures with the critical eye of an architect
evaluating a new blueprint. What struck him was not just
the content of the ideas, but the way they were presented.
The controlled pacing, the specialized language, the clear steps toward
higher levels of understanding. It was a system designed to

(17:05):
keep adherents moving forward, always toward the next stage, the
next revelation. Mary Anne approached Scientology with characteristic directness. She
enrolled in courses with the clear goal of advancing quickly.
Her natural ability to read and respond to people made
her well suited to the role of auditor, guiding others
through sessions meant to uncover and neutralize hidden mental barriers.

(17:30):
She quickly gained a reputation for being effective, but also
for holding to a high standard. She was not there
to coddle anyone They would meet within that structure, each
recognizing in the other a capacity for leadership and an
appetite for influence. But in the early nineteen sixties they
were still separate figures, each charting their own assent within

(17:51):
the church. The encounter that would bind their fates and
give birth to one of the most notorious cults of
the century was just Aheadrobert had begun to imagine the
possibility of applying his architectural mindset to the human sphere,
building not with stone and steel, but with beliefs, rituals,
and hierarchies. Marianne had begun to see how a tightly

(18:12):
controlled system could be used to consolidate personal power. In scientology,
both would find not only a shared language, but a
shared ambition. When their paths finally crossed in nineteen sixty three,
they would recognize in each other the qualities they had
been looking for all along, discipline, vision, and the will
to lead the processed Church of The final judgment would

(18:35):
be their joint creation, a fusion of Robert's structural thinking
and mari Anne's mastery of human dynamics. But before they
could build it, they would first have to master the
world of scientology and learn from it both what to
embrace and what to reject part two the Scientology years.
When Robert de Grimston still Robert Moore to most first

(18:58):
walked into the British branch of the Church of Scientology,
it was a modest operation compared to the sprawling network
it would later become. The headquarters in London lacked the
grandeur of the American centers, but the air inside still
carried the sharp scent of fresh ambition. The movement's founder,
l Ron Hubbard had already made his mark across the
Atlantic with dionetics in the early nineteen fifties, and now

(19:21):
his system of mental and spiritual self improvement was gaining
footholds in other parts of the world. In Britain, the
organization was headquartered on Fitzroy Street in London. Its premises
functional rather than lavish, but buzzing with activity. Courses were
running in small classrooms, led by instructors who spoke with

(19:41):
an almost military precision. The walls were lined with Hubbard's writings,
diagrams illustrating the tone scale, and charts tracking the progress
of students through the various stages of training. Robert's first
experiences were those of an observer. He sat quietly through
introductory lectures his architect's mind, taking in the structure of

(20:02):
the doctrine before making any personal investment in it. What
struck him first was not the metaphysical content, past lives,
the concept of the tatan, the intricate vocabulary that Scientology used,
but the methodical way in which it was delivered. Everything
was ordered, codified, and presented as part of a progressive path.
For a man who believed in systems, this was captivating.

(20:25):
The concept of auditing intrigued him deeply. The idea that
the mind could be cleared of harmful angrams through a
structured dialogue aided by the e meter seemed both practical
and revolutionary. Here was a technology of the mind, as
Hubbard called it, promising measurable results. Robert began his own training,
moving steadily through the coursework, learning the language and techniques

(20:48):
of the movement. Mary Anne's arrival into Scientology was more
direct and more charged. She was not content to linger
at the edges as an observer. She entered with the
intention of moving forward quickly, taking advantage of the organization's
meritocratic veneer, the promise that progress depended on dedication and skill,

(21:09):
not on one's past or social standing. From the beginning,
she showed an aptitude for auditing. The role demanded not
only technical adherence to Hubbard's methods, but also the ability
to read a person in real time, to sense when
to push, when to hold back, when to press a question.
This was second nature to her. She advanced quickly, developing

(21:30):
a reputation among her peers as an auditor who could
cut through evasions and get to the core of a
person's mental blockages. Her sessions were intense, and some said
they bordered on confrontational. She saw no need to soften
her approach. For her, the point was results, and results
required pressure. Their first meeting was not dramatic. It was

(21:52):
a passing recognition two ambitious figures crossing paths in a
hallway or between training sessions. But even in those early
extras changes, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of shared seriousness.
They were not there to dabble, to toy with self
improvement like a passing hobby. They were there to master
the system. Over time, they began to work more closely

(22:14):
in study groups and auditing sessions. They saw in each
other a rare combination of commitment and vision. Robert admired
mary Anne's decisiveness and her refusal to dilute her methods
to make others comfortable. Maryanne recognized in Robert a mind
that could see the larger architecture of the movement, not
just its daily operations, but the underlying framework that made

(22:35):
it work. As they progressed, they began to see limitations
in the system as well. Hubbard's methods were rigid, and
while this appealed to their love of order, it also
left little room for innovation. For Robert, the focus on
climbing the established ladder of scientology began to feel less
rewarding than the thought of what could be built outside it.

(22:56):
For mary Anne, the highly centralized authority of Hubbard himself
posed an obstacle. Influence she understood was fragile when it
depended on the goodwill of a single higher authority. By
the mid nineteen sixties, both had reached a point where
their ambitions and their loyalty to the church were intention.
Scientology had given them tools, the disciplined methods of auditing,

(23:20):
the language of spiritual progress, the model of a tightly
controlled hierarchy, but it was also a cage. The higher
they climbed, the more they saw the ceiling above them.
The final break was not a single moment of rebellion,
but a gradual turning. They began discussing ideas outside of class,
exploring concepts that were not part of Hubbard's official doctrine.

(23:41):
They wondered aloud whether the processes of auditing could be adapted,
whether the rigid dogma could be replaced with something more flexible,
something that reflected their own vision. In those conversations, the
seeds of the processed Church were planted. Robert brought the
structural vision, a belief that any effective movement needed a
coherent framework, a defined hierarchy, and a mythology that could

(24:04):
bind its members together. Mary Anne brought the human element,
an understanding of how loyalty was won and kept, how
control was maintained not only through rules, but through personal
presence and influence. Leaving Scientology was not without risk. The
organization discouraged dissent and was known for cutting ties with

(24:24):
those who left. But Robert and mary Anne were ready
to take that risk. They had come to see themselves
not as students, but as leaders in waiting. In their eyes,
the real work was about to begin. By nineteen sixty six,
they were no longer bound by the structure they had
once embraced. They were free to experiment, to shape a
new system from the tools they had taken with them.

(24:48):
It would be a system that retained the discipline of
Scientology's methods, but would be infused with their own theology, imagery,
and goals. What emerged from that freedom would be unlike
anything Britain or the world had seen before. Once Robert
and Mary Anne began moving in closer professional orbit within
Scientology's London operations, their reputations evolved quickly. Robert was seen

(25:10):
as methodical, precise, and capable of distilling complex doctrine into
a coherent structure. Mary Anne was recognized for her intensity,
her ability to get results in auditing sessions, and her
unwillingness to waste time on what she saw as unnecessary politeness. Together,
they made an impression as a formidable pair, serious, competent,

(25:31):
and clearly ambitious. Scientology in Britain at the time was
still small enough that those who excelled could make themselves
known to the leadership. The Church's British operations were part
of Hubbard's expanding global network, with courses being run in
London and Saint Hill, manor in East Grinstead, Sussex. Saint Hill,
which Hubbard had purchased in nineteen fifty nine, had become

(25:53):
the international headquarters, a kind of mecca for dedicated scientologists
from around the world. Those who were invited there for
training were seen as having real potential. Robert was drawn
to Saint Hill for its symbolism as much as for
its training programs. It was the physical embodiment of Hubbard's
vision a grand manor house repurposed as a center of

(26:15):
mental and spiritual advancement. The layout of the place, with
its classrooms, auditing rooms, and offices, was a perfect example
of space designed to reinforce hierarchy. Movement through the building
mirrored movement up the church's internal ranks. You entered as
a student, you passed through stages of learning, and if

(26:35):
you advanced far enough, you reached the upper floors where
the senior staff and high level auditors worked. Mary Anne
thrived in this environment. Her sessions as an auditor at
Saint Hill became known for their efficiency and their impact.
She was adept at steering a session toward breakthroughs, even
if it meant pressing a participant past their comfort zone.

(26:56):
Hubbard's system valued such results, but it also valued obedience
to the exact procedures laid out in policy letters. Here,
mary Anne's natural independence sometimes pushed against the boundaries. She
was not careless. She understood the importance of maintaining the
appearance of strict compliance, but she was willing to adapt
her methods in ways that the more rigid adherents might

(27:18):
have avoided. It was during their shared time between fitzroy
Street and Saint Hill that Robert and mary Ann began
to recognize the full extent of their compatibility. In private conversations,
they spoke about the structure of the church in ways
that were less reverent than most members dared. They admired
the efficiency of the auditing process, the psychological depth of

(27:40):
the confessional model, and the way the organization's language created
a self contained world, but they also saw the limitations
the way everything ultimately pointed back to Hubbard as the
sole sole source of authority. Robert, with his background and architecture,
thought in terms of systems that could function independently of
their creator. He saw in scientology a brilliant design, but

(28:03):
one that was incomplete if the architect were removed. The
structure might collapse. Mary Anne viewed the situation more in
terms of power dynamics. Any system in which one person
held absolute control over advancement, approval, and recognition left ambitious
figures like themselves vulnerable. By the early nineteen sixties, scientology

(28:23):
was expanding into continental Europe, and Robert and Mary Anne
were sent to assist with courses in Germany. The European
mission work was grueling, long hours, cultural adjustments, and the
challenge of introducing Hubbard's teachings to audiences that were often skeptical.
In Germany, they encountered a more reserved public, less inclined

(28:43):
to embrace the quasi religious overtones of scientology, but the
experience was valuable. It gave them a taste of leading
in less supportive environments, where the trappings of the London
and Saint Hill centers could not be relied upon to
inspire awe. They returned to Written with a stronger sense
of themselves as a unit. Their conversations about the future

(29:04):
grew more speculative. What if they could take the effective
elements of scientology and reshape them. What if they could
create something with the same intensity of belief, but without
the bottleneck of a single sun central figure dictating every move.
These were still tentative discussions, the kind of thoughts one
voiced cautiously in an organization that viewed dissent as a threat.

(29:26):
Scientology's policy on those who questioned its methods was well
known among insiders. Critics could be labeled suppressive persons, effectively
excommunicated and shunned by other members. But Robert and Marianne
were careful. Outwardly, they continued to perform, to deliver results,
to demonstrate their loyalty. Inwardly, they were taking notes not

(29:47):
on how to rise further within the system, but on
how to replicate its most effective elements elsewhere. In nineteen
sixty five, tensions within the church were heightened by growing
scrutiny from governments and the press. In Britain, the health
Ministry had begun looking into Scientology's claims, and the press
was running increasingly critical stories. The atmosphere inside the organization tightened.

(30:10):
Policy letters from Hubbard's stressed discipline, adherence to procedure, and
the need to close ranks against external hostility. For Robert
and mary Anne, the shift was another reminder of the
vulnerability inherent in a structure that was reactive to external forces.
Their decision to leave was not a dramatic expulsion, but
a calculated withdrawal. They stepped away from their roles citing

(30:33):
personal reasons, but the truth was that they were ready
to build something of their own. They carried with them
not just the techniques of auditing and the organizational blueprints
of Scientology, but also a network of contacts people who
respected their abilities and might be willing to follow them
into a new venture. By the time they severed their

(30:53):
official ties, the vision of what would become the Processed
Church was already taking shape in their minds. It would
be a movement with its own mythology, one that drew
on elements of Christian theology, occult symbolism, and psychological transformation.
It would have the same tight internal discipline they had
learned under Hubbard, but its leadership would be shared between them,

(31:17):
and it would present itself not merely as a path
to self improvement, but as a revelation about the nature
of good, evil and the end of days. When they
walked away from Scientology in nineteen sixty six, they were
not empty handed. They had the methods, the mindset, and,
most importantly, the conviction that they could create something greater
than what they had left behind. The church they would

(31:40):
found together would carry traces of their scientology years in
its bones, the language of transformation, the stages of advancement,
the demand for loyalty, but it would be clothed in
a new and far stranger's skin. Part three, Birth of

(32:01):
the Process. When Robert and Marianne left the world of
scientology in nineteen sixty six, they carried with them more
than a set of techniques. They carried an understanding of
how a belief system could be structured, how authority could
be cultivated, and how ritual could bind people together into
a community that was more than the sum of its members.

(32:22):
They also carried the certainty that they were ready to
lead something of their own. Their time under Hubbard had
been a kind of apprenticeship, and now freed from his oversight,
they were ready to build a movement without the limitations
they had chafed against. The first step was not the
announcement of a grand new religion, but the formation of

(32:42):
a small, tight knit group. They called it simply the process.
It was a name that conveyed both movement and transformation,
a word that hinted at a journey rather than a
fixed set of dogmas. In the beginning, the process was
framed less as a church and more as an applied
for liofilosophy, a system of personal development that drew on

(33:04):
the methods they had learned in Scientology, but stripped away
its reliance on a single, unreachable leader. Their early recruits
came from the same kinds of seekers who had been
drawn to Scientology, people disillusioned with conventional religion, curious about
alternative approaches to self improvement, and hungry for a sense
of purpose. Robert and Mary Anne positioned themselves not as

(33:28):
distant authorities, but as guides who had walked the path themselves.
This was a deliberate inversion of Hubbard's model, where the
leader was a remote, almost mythic figure. Here, the leaders
were present, accessible, and visibly committed to the same disciplines
they expected from their followers. The process began in London,
but its founders had little interest in staying in one place.

(33:51):
They believed that movement itself was part of the transformation
they were offering. In the earliest days, this meant taking
their core group on retreats and extended days in rural
locations away from the distractions and habits of city life.
These periods of isolation served multiple purposes. They broke down
old patterns, intensified group bonds, and created an atmosphere where

(34:13):
Robert and Marianne's vision could take root without interference. It
was during one of these retreats that the ideological framework
of the process began to crystallize. Robert's contributions were philosophical
and structural. He believed that real change required a confrontation
with all aspects of the self, not only the idealized

(34:34):
self image people presented to the world, but also the
darker impulses they tried to suppress. Drawing on ideas from
Jungian psychology, he began to articulate a worldview in which
spiritual growth demanded reconciliation between opposing forces. Marianne's focus was
on the practical application of these ideas. She understood that

(34:55):
lofty philosophy meant little without concrete practices to embody it.
Developed exercises that blended elements of auditing with new techniques
designed to push members towards self disclosure and emotional vulnerability.
These sessions were intense, often demanding long periods of sustained
focus and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. In nineteen

(35:17):
sixty six and nineteen sixty seven, the Process began to
take on the trappings of a distinct movement. Its members
adopted a style of dress that would become one of
its most recognizable features, black clothing, often paired with silver
crosses or other symbolic jewelry. This uniformity served both symbolic
and practical purposes. It projected a sense of unity and

(35:39):
seriousness to outsiders, and it reinforced the internal identity of
the group to where the black of the Process was
to signal that one's life had been set apart from
the ordinary. The group also began to develop its own
visual and textual language. Robert was drawn to symbols that
combined elements of Christian theology with more es Sassoic imagery.

(36:01):
The idea of reconciling Christ and Satan, of seeing them
not as enemies but as complementary forces, emerged during this period.
It was a provocative concept, one that challenged conventional religious
thinking and drew immediate attention. For Robert, it was not
about shock value for its own sake, but about expressing

(36:21):
the deeper philosophical principle that wholeness required embracing the totality
of existence light and dark alike. Mary Anne, for her part,
understood the public relations potential of such imagery. She saw
that the Process could stand out in a crowded field
of alternative movements by embracing a bold and unapologetic esthetic.

(36:42):
While other groups of the era adopted the loose, colorful
styles of the hippie counterculture, the Process presented itself as disciplined,
even severe. This contrast made them memorable and to some intimidating.
Recruitment in these early years relied heavily on personal contact.
Members approached people in public places, handed out literature, and

(37:03):
invited them to meetings. The tone of these invitations was
not pleading or apologetic, but confident. The Process did not
position itself as a marginal movement desperate for converts. It
presented itself as a selective path, one that was not
for everyone. This exclusivity was part of the allure. The
late nineteen sixties were a time of social upheaval, and

(37:26):
the Process found fertile ground among those who were disillusioned
with mainstream society but not entirely satisfied with the hedonism
of the broader counterculture, Robert and Mary Anne offered something different,
a sense of order within change, a promise of transformation
that was both personal and cosmic in scope. By nineteen

(37:47):
sixty seven, the Process had established a more formal organizational structure.
Robert's architectural mindset shaped the hierarchy. There were defined roles,
clear lines of authority, and a system of progression through
which members could advance. This structure was paired with communal
living arrangements that deepened the sense of separation from the

(38:07):
outside world. Process houses were not simply places to sleep.
They were spaces designed to reinforce the group's values and
identity at every turn. The London headquarters became a hub
for both internal training and public outreach. From here, the
Process began publishing its own magazine, which featured articles that

(38:27):
combined philosophical essays, interviews, and striking visual design. The magazine
was as much a recruitment tool as it was a
platform for expressing the group's ideology. Its provocative content and
polished presentations set it apart from the amateurish publications of
many other fringe movements. The Process's first ventures beyond Britain

(38:49):
came as part of Robert and Mary Ann's belief that
the movement should be international. From the outset, they took
small teams to the United States, where the cultural ferment
of the late nineteen sixties offered both opportunities and risks.
In cities like New Orleans, San Francisco, and New York,
they encountered a mix of curiosity and suspicion. The black

(39:10):
clad processions, as the members sometimes called themselves, were hard
to miss, and their message of reconciling Christ and Satan
invited both fascination and hostility. In these American forays, the
Process refined its approach to public engagement. Street presence was important,
but so was the cultivation of relationships with influential figures

(39:31):
in the cultural underground. Musicians, artists, and writers were invited
into conversations that ranged from theology to politics to personal transformation.
The Process understood that endorsement, even tacit from cultural tastemakers,
could amplify its reach far beyond what street recruitment could achieve.
By the close of the decade, the foundations had been laid.

(39:53):
The Process was no longer a small circle of former
scientologists experimenting with new methods. It was an organized, visually distinctive,
and ideologically coherent movement with a growing international footprint. The
next stage, expansion and full public visibility, would bring both
the height of its influence and the beginnings of the

(40:14):
pressures that would eventually test its survival. By nineteen sixty eight,
the Process had taken on a distinct character that set
it apart from the many experimental communities and new religious
movements that were emerging across the West. While the hippie
counterculture embraced a spontaneous, often chaotic form of communal life,

(40:35):
the Process operated with a kind of deliberate discipline. Every element,
from the way members dressed to the way they spoke
about their beliefs to the arrangement of their communal houses,
was designed to create an environment that felt purposeful. This
sense of order within the unconventional was one of their
most effective recruitment tools. The movement's theology was also beginning

(40:55):
to take a sharper shape. The idea of reconciling opposites,
particularly the reconciliation of Christ and Satan, became its central
and most provocative teaching. Robert now often referred to within
the group. As the teacher articulated this as an essential
step toward wholeness. To him, denying the darker aspects of

(41:16):
human nature was a form of self deception. True spiritual
progress required acknowledging, understanding, and integrating those aspects, rather than
pretending they did not exist. Mary Anne, increasingly taking on
the title the oracle within the group, provided a complimentary voice.
While Robert spoke in terms of philosophy and psychology, mary

(41:37):
Anne delivered her guidance in a more personal, almost prophetic style.
She would address members directly, offering insight into their struggles
and prescribing specific practices or attitudes for them to adopt.
Her authority was rooted not an abstraction, but in the
immediacy of her interactions. Together, they built a leadership dynamic
that was both shared and distinct. Robert's role gave the

(42:01):
movement its intellectual backbone at while Marianne's role gave it
emotional gravity. Members often described feeling that Robert could explain
the path, but mary Anne could see into their souls.
This dual leadership avoided one of the pitfalls they had
identified in scientology, the overdependence on a single figure while
still keeping ultimate authority concentrated in their hands. The group's

(42:25):
physical presence in cities became more noticeable. In London, members
in their black cloaks and silver crosses could often be
seen walking in small groups handing out copies of the
Process magazine. The magazine itself had become a polished, visually
arresting publication, with covers that featured stark photographs, bold typography,

(42:45):
and symbolic imagery. Inside, readers would find essays on the
group's theology, interviews with cultural figures, and commentary on world
events framed through the Process's apocalyptic worldview. In the United States,
SUS established footholds in New Orleans, Los Angeles, and New York.
Each city presented different opportunities and challenges. In New Orleans,

(43:09):
their gothic esthetic resonated with the city's Catholic and occult undercurrents,
but their theology provoked pushback from local religious leaders. In
Los Angeles, their presence in the cultural ferment of the
Sunset Strip allowed them to connect with musicians, actors, and artists,
some of whom were intrigued enough to visit their communal houses.

(43:29):
In New York, they positioned themselves near the countercultural hubs
of the village, where their austere image stood out against
the more colorful bohemian scene. Recruitment was often subtle. While
they did hand out literature in public spaces, the more
effective method was personal engagement. Conversation in a coffeehouse or
at a music venue could lead to an invitation to

(43:50):
a lecture or discussion at a Process house. Those who
attended would encounter an environment that felt at once intense
and welcoming, rooms decorated with symbolic art, members who spoke
with conviction and a sense that everyone present was engaged
in something significant. As their numbers grew, so did their ambition.

(44:11):
They began to host public events, including lectures, debates, and
art exhibitions, that drew curious outsiders into their orbit. These
events served both as recruitment opportunities and as demonstrations of
the group's sophistication. They wanted to be seen not as
fringe eccentrics, but as serious thinkers with something vital to
say about the human condition. Internally, the Process's training programs

(44:35):
became more structured. Members underwent intensive periods of self examination
and group work, often involving long hours of discussion confession
and ritualized practices. These programs were designed to strip away
what the leaders saw as the false selves imposed by
conventional society, replacing them with identities grounded in the Process's teachings.

(44:57):
The late nineteen sixties also brought a growing sense of
urgency to the movement's message. The Process is apocalyptic vision.
The belief in an impending transformation of the world resonated
with the broader cultural atmosphere of the time. The Vietnam War,
political assassinations, racial unrest, and environmental concerns all fed into
the sense that the world was approaching a crisis point.

(45:20):
The Process offered a narrative that made sense of this chaos,
framing it as part of a necessary cycle of destruction
and renewal. By nineteen sixty nine, Robert and Mary Ann
had positioned the Process as both a community and a mission.
They were not content to simply gather followers. They wanted
to influence the cultural conversation. Their magazine reached beyond the membership,

(45:43):
and their public presence ensured that they were noticed by journalists, academics,
and other religious figures. This visibility was a double edged sword.
It brought new recruits and heightened interest, but it also
attracted scrutiny from those who viewed their theology as dangerous
or their methods as manipulative. Still, in this period, the

(46:04):
Process was riding a wave of growth and momentum. Their
houses in London, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and New York
were active hubs, each reflecting the same core values while
adapting to local conditions. The network of members was expanding,
and the leadership's vision was becoming more confident. The stage
was set for the next phase, a period when the

(46:25):
Process would reach its height in numbers, influence, and public attention.
But this peak would also mark the beginning of new challenges,
as the movement's growing profile would invite the kind of
attention that no amount of discipline or careful image making
could fully control. Part four, The height of the Process.
By the turn of nineteen seventy, the Processed Church of

(46:47):
the Final Judgment had moved from being a curious outsider
movement to an unmistakable presence in several major cities across
two continents. In London, their headquarters had become a constant
point of interest for passers by, who would slow their
steps to glance at the black clad figures entering and
leaving the building. The same could be said of their
houses in New Orleans, Los Angeles, and New York, where

(47:10):
their stark esthetic contrasted so sharply with the colorful chaos
of the broader counterculture that they were impossible to ignore.
The group's black cloaks and silver crosses were more than
a uniform. They were a visual declaration that the wearer
belonged to something rarefied, disciplined, and set apart from the mainstream.

(47:31):
For members, putting on the cloak each day was a
reaffirmation of commitment. For outsiders, it was a signal that
here was a group with its own rules, its own values,
and a confidence in those values strong enough to wear
them on the street. At this point, the process had
refined its theology into a fully developed cosmology that blended
elements of Christianity, Esotericism, and Jungian psychology. Central to their

(47:54):
belief was the reconciliation of four archetypal entities, Jehovah, Lucifer,
Satan in Christ. Each represented different aspects of the self
and of existence. Jehovah embodied discipline and law. Lucifer represented light,
knowledge and the pursuit of beauty, Satan stood for challenge,
destruction and the breaking of boundaries. Christ represented love, compassion,

(48:17):
and unity. Robert taught that true spiritual growth came from
acknowledging and integrating all four, rather than favoring one and
denying the others. Mary Anne brought this theology into lived
practice through the group's rituals and daily interactions. She ensured
that members confronted their own contradictions, pushing them to admit

(48:37):
not only their virtues, but their flaws, desires, and fears.
Her presence was commanding, and members often described feeling as
though she could see directly into them, discerning what they
most wanted to hide. The Process's public image during these
years was shaped largely by its magazine, which had grown
in both scope and sophistication. The publication featured philosophic essays

(49:00):
by Robert, personal reflections from members, interviews with prominent cultural figures,
and commentary on world events filtered through the group's apocalyptic lens.
The design was bold and polished, making it stand out
from the cheaply printed leaflets common among fringe movements. This
attention to quality was deliberate. The Process wanted to be

(49:21):
taken seriously not dismissed as amateur. Internally, the process reached
the height of its intensity during this period. Communal living
arrangements deepened members commitment to the group and to each other.
Daily life followed a structured rhythm of work, study, ritual,
and outreach. Members underwent intensive processing sessions evolved from their

(49:45):
scientology auditing days, where they confronted their own inner conflicts
under the guidance of senior members or Robert and mary
Anne themselves. The leadership dynamic between Robert and mary Anne
was at its strongest. Robert provided the grand vision, articulating
the philosophical underpinnings and long term goals. Maryanne ensured that
day to day reality matched that vision, maintaining discipline, mediating disputes,

(50:09):
and making decisions about individual's progression within the group. This
balance kept the process functioning smoothly even as it expanded
geographically and ideologically. Media coverage during this peak period was
a mix of fascination and suspicion. Journalists were drawn to
the visual drama of the group and the unusual combination

(50:30):
of religious symbols they employed. Interviews often focused on the
reconciliation of Christ and Satan, a concept that made for
provocative headlines, but was also easy to misrepresent. The process
learned to navigate these encounters, offering explanations that were accessible
without diluting their core message. Financially, the group supported itself

(50:52):
through a combination of member contributions, magazine sales, and donations
from Sympathizers worked in outside jobs and contributed their earnings
to the community, while others dedicated themselves full time to
Process activities. The communal structure meant that resources could be
pooled and directed where they were most needed, whether that

(51:14):
was maintaining their properties, funding outreach, or producing publications. By
the early nineteen seventies, the Process had reached a point
where it could be described as both a spiritual movement
and a cultural presence. Its members were visible on the streets,
its magazine was read by people far outside the group,
and its leaders were known in certain artistic and intellectual circles.

(51:38):
The message of integration, of embracing the totality of existence
both light and dark, resonated with some as a profound,
spiritual truth, while others saw it as dangerous or subversive.
This was the high water mark of the process. Their
influence was felt in multiple cities. Their ideology was fully
formed and their leadership was united in purpose. But, as

(52:00):
is often the case with movements that grow rapidly, the
seeds of future challenges were already present. Increased visibility meant
increased scrutiny. The same qualities that attracted new members also
drew the attention of those who feared or misunderstood them.
The Process's peak years were a time of confidence and expansion,
but they were also a time when the balance they

(52:22):
had maintained so carefully began to shift under the weight
of their own ambitions. The next stage would reveal whether
their structure and vision could withstand the pressures that came
with their success. The early nineteen seventies brought with them
a heightened sense of possibility within the Process, The momentum
they had built in the late sixties had carried them
into a new decade with confidence. Their black clad figures

(52:45):
on city streets had become more than symbols of their
separation from the mainstream. They were now markers of a
movement that had survived its infancy and was thriving. The
group had its own culture, its own mythology, its own
rhythms of life. Inside members spoke of the Process as
a family, bound not by blood but by choice and

(53:06):
by the shared commitment to the teachings of Robert and
Mary Anne. In London, their headquarters had become a kind
of stage where the ideals of the group could be
seen in action. Visitors were met with an atmosphere that
was carefully curated, the smell of incense in the air,
walls hung with stark symbolic art, and a quiet orderliness

(53:27):
that made it clear this was a place of purpose.
Members moved through the space with a sense of direction,
and the presence of Robert and Mary Anne was felt
even when they were not in the room. The American
centers were no less active. Los Angeles was particularly important
during this period. Situated close to the heart of the
music industry, The Process's presence there gave them access to

(53:49):
artists and audiences who were already receptive to alternative ideas
and unconventional spirituality. Some musicians openly expressed interest in their philosophy,
while others found the Process's esthetic compelling enough to borrow
elements of it for their own work. Even when these
interactions did not result in recruitment, they increased the group's

(54:11):
cultural footprint in New York. The Process's West Village location
put them in contact with a cross section of the
city's creative and intellectual community. The city's political unrest and
artistic experimentation provided fertile ground for conversations about the group's
apocalyptic vision. In New Orleans, their message resonated in a

(54:32):
city where Catholic tradition and occult interest coexisted, though it
also met with resistance from religious leaders who saw their
theology as heretical. The magazine remained a central pillar of
their outreach strategy. Each issue was assembled with the care
of a high end publication. Photography was striking, typography bold,

(54:53):
and the essays carefully crafted to provoke thought. Robert's philosophical
writings were often placed alongside into with notable figures from
the arts and letters, giving the impression that the Process
was not only part of the counterculture, but also in
dialogue with the wider world. Mary Anne's contributions were less frequent,

(55:13):
but often more personal in tone, offering guidance or reflection
that spoke directly to the reader's own inner conflicts. Within
the group, the rituals and training became more formalized. There
was an emphasis on members confronting their own shadow selves,
a concept that came directly from Robert's synthesis of Jungian
thought and the group's theological framework. Mary Anne ensured that

(55:36):
these processes were not merely theoretical. She supervised the practical exercises,
pushing members to face the parts of themselves they most
wished to deny. The sessions could be intense, emotional, and exhausting,
but for many they were transformative experiences that deepened their
loyalty to the group. The Process also began to experiment

(55:59):
with out outreach beyond the confines of its houses and
lecture halls. Public debates were held with representatives of more
mainstream religions, drawing audiences curious to see the confrontation between
the Process's radical theology and traditional belief systems. These debates
served a dual purpose. They provided a platform to articulate

(56:20):
their ideas and gave them the chance to demonstrate their
confidence and intellectual rigor in the face of opposition. During
these peak years, the leadership of Robert and Mary Anne
was firmly aligned. Robert's role as the teacher meant he
was often the one articulating the group's evolving vision, setting
long term goals, and shaping the larger narrative. Mary Anne,

(56:40):
as the Oracle, managed the community's inner life, the daily discipline,
the interpersonal dynamics, and the well being of members. This
division of labor kept the group's external image sharp while
maintaining internal cohesion. Media attention was a constant companion during
this time, and while it was not always favorable, the

(57:00):
Process had learned to turn even negative coverage into an advantage.
Controversial headlines sparked curiosity, and those who came to see
for themselves often found something more complex than what they
had read. The group's ability to maintain a sense of
mystery while still being visible was a balancing act they
managed with skill. Financially, they were stable enough to maintain

(57:23):
their multiple centers and fund their ambitious publishing efforts. The
communal nature of the group's economy meant that individual members' incomes,
pooled together, could support the whole. This model allowed them
to avoid the dependence on outside donations that had hampered
other fringe movements, though it also meant that members commitment
to the cause was as much economic as it was ideological.

(57:46):
By nineteen seventy two, the Process was at the zenith
of its influence. Its network spanned multiple cities, its magazine
was reaching beyond its immediate membership, and its leaders were
figures of fascination and contra. Their message of integration, of
embracing the totality of human nature, both light and dark,

(58:06):
had struck a chord with some and provoked outrage in others.
But for those inside, there was a sense that they
were part of something momentous, a movement poised to change
not just individual lives, but the trajectory of the world itself. Yet,
even in this moment of triumph, the first signs of
strain were beginning to show. The very visibility that had

(58:27):
fueled their growth was also attracting new levels of scrutiny
from authorities and the press. Questions about their finances, their
recruitment methods, and their theology were being asked with increasing frequency. Inside,
the pressure to maintain the intensity of their communal life
was growing as more people joined, Maintaining the same level
of personal connection between the leaders and the members became

(58:51):
more difficult. The high point of the process was a
delicate equilibrium, a balance between inspiration and control, between openness
and secrecy. It was a balance that could not hold indefinitely.
The same forces that had propelled them upward would in
time become the pressures that tested the very foundations they
had built. The next chapter in their story would see

(59:14):
the process confronting challenges that no amount of discipline or
vision could fully deflect. Part five, Decline and Dissolution. The
high point of the process in the early nineteen seventies
had been a moment of perfect balance. Their networks stretched

(59:35):
from London to New Orleans, their magazine was being sold
in bookstores and on street corners in multiple cities, and
their leaders, Robert and Mary Ann, were both feared and
revered in equal measure. For those inside, it felt like
a movement on the verge of something even greater, But
in truth, they had reached the outer edge of their growth.

(59:56):
From that moment on, the slow process of decline began.
The first cracks appeared internally. As the group grew, it
became more difficult to maintain the intense sense of personal
connection that had once defined membership. In the early days,
every member had regular access to Robert and Mary Anne.
They could speak directly with the teacher and the oracle,

(01:00:17):
receive guidance and feel their presence shaping their lives. By
the early nineteen seventies, that access had become more selective.
New members often spent months or even years without a
private meeting with either leader. This distance eroded some of
the intimacy that had been one of the group's greatest strengths.
Recruitment also became harder. The counterculture of the late sixties

(01:00:41):
had provided an almost endless supply of seekers, people who
were disillusioned with mainstream religion, suspicious of government, and eager
to experiment with new forms of spirituality. By the mid seventies,
the mood had shifted. The optimism of the sixties had
given way to a more sin and pragmatic cultural climate.

(01:01:03):
Economic uncertainty, political scandals, and a growing weariness with utopian
experiments meant that fewer people were willing to abandon everything
to join a commune. The process was still attracting interest,
but the people who came through the door were often
less committed, more skeptical, and less willing to submit to
the group's demanding discipline. Externally, the group was facing a

(01:01:24):
new level of scrutiny. Local authorities in some cities had
begun monitoring their activities more closely. In Britain, certain press
outlets revived sensational stories about the group's theology and its
supposed ties to darker elements of the occult. In the
United States, rumors linking the process to high profile crimes,
particularly the Manson murders, persisted despite repeated denials from the

(01:01:47):
group and a lack of evidence. While these rumors were
never proven, they cast a long shadow. Potential recruits who
might have been curious were now wary. Existing members sometimes
found themselves defending their involvement to friends and family who
had read alarming headlines. The magazine, once their most effective
tool for outreach, began to lose its edge. Production costs

(01:02:10):
were rising, and the effort to maintain a consistent publishing
schedule became more difficult. As membership numbers stabilized or declined,
some issues became more introspective, focusing on the inner life
of the group rather than engaging with the wider world.
While this deepened the experience for committed members, it also
made the publication less accessible to outsiders. Inside the leadership circle,

(01:02:35):
tensions began to build. Robert and Mary Anne had always
presented a united front, but their approaches to guiding the
movement were not identical. Robert continued to push the intellectual
and philosophical aspects of the process, refining its theology and
experimenting with new ways to express its ideas. Mary Anne,
more grounded in the practical and emotional needs of the community,

(01:02:57):
sometimes saw these changes as distractions from the core work
of maintaining the group's cohesion. Disagreements that had once been
private began to show in subtle ways, differences in emphasis
during public talks or conflicting instructions given to members. Financial
pressures added to the strain. While the communal model had

(01:03:17):
sustained them during their growth years, it was less adaptable
during a period of contraction. Maintaining multiple properties, especially in
expensive urban locations, became a significant burden. Members were asked
to contribute more, either through outside employment or by finding
ways to cut costs. In some cases, centers were closed
or consolidated, forcing members to relocate and disrupting established routines.

(01:03:42):
By the mid nineteen seventies, the decline was clear. The
Los Angeles and New Orleans centers saw drops in attendance
at public events. London, once the nerve center of the
entire movement, struggled to maintain the same level of energy.
Recruitment drives became less about expanding and more about replacing
those who had quietly left. The group's leadership began to

(01:04:03):
face the question that every high control religious movement must
eventually confront. How to preserve the vision when the external
momentum is gone. Robert responded by attempting to reframe the
mission of the Process. He began speaking less about a
coming apocalypse and more about the personal transformation that could
be achieved through their teachings. This shift was partly pragmatic

(01:04:26):
apocalyptic prophecies lose their power when the predicted events failed
to materialize, and partly a recognition that the most devoted
members were those who had experienced some form of innerchange
through the group's methods. Mary Anne, however, worried that softening
the message would weaken the process's identity. To her, the
group's power lay in its uncompromising stance, in its willingness

(01:04:48):
to confront the darkness of the world head on. The
late nineteen seventies saw further retrenchment. Some members left voluntarily disillusioned,
either by the internal tensions or by the fading sense
of per purpose Others were asked to leave if they
were seen as disruptive or insufficiently committed. The smaller numbers
made the community more insular without the influx of fresh perspectives.

(01:05:11):
The same debates and disagreements began to circulate within the group,
sometimes intensifying rather than resolving. In this period, there were
attempts to reinvent certain aspects of the process. The magazine
experimented with new formats, and the group explored different ways
to present itself to the public, sometimes downplaying its more
controversial symbols. There were efforts to form alliances with other

(01:05:35):
alternative spiritual groups, but these often faltered due to differences
in doctrine or leadership style. By the early nineteen eighties,
the Process as it had existed during its height was gone.
The remaining members had rebranded aspects of their work, eventually
moving toward what became known as the Foundation Church of
the Millennium and later the Best Friend's Animal Society. These

(01:05:59):
changes were more than cosmetic. The apocalyptic theology was gradually
set aside, replaced with a focus on animal welfare and
community service. For some, this was a natural evolution, a
way to carry forward the group's sense of mission in
a form that could engage with the wider world without
the baggage of the past. For others, it felt like

(01:06:20):
a complete abandonment of what the Process had been. Robert
Maryann themselves had long since stepped back from public leadership.
Their relationship, both personal and professional, had endured the stresses
of decades in a high pressure movement, but the dissolution
of the Process marked the end of an era for
them as well. Mary Anne continued to influence the direction

(01:06:43):
of the group's remnants for some time, while Robert's role
diminished as the focus shifted away from the theology he
had developed. By the time the last vestiges of the
Process's religious identity were gone, what remained bore little resemblance
to the movement that had once sent black clad missionaries
into the streets of London, New York, and Los Angeles.
The rituals, the teachings, the sense of being part of

(01:07:05):
a world changing mission all had faded, replaced by new
priorities and a new public image. For those who had
lived through the height of the Process, the transformation was bittersweet.
They had been part of something that for a time
had seemed destined to alter the course of history. Now
that vision existed only in memory. The decline and dissolution

(01:07:27):
of the Process was not a sudden collapse. It was
a slow unwinding, the gradual loss of energy and coherence
that often follows the peak of a tightly controlled movement.
In its final years, the Process was no longer a
force that drew the world's attention, but a small community
quietly reshaping itself into something less radical, less dangerous, and

(01:07:47):
far less visible. Part six Legacy and Echoes. When the
Process dissolved in its original form, the outside world moved
on quickly. The headlines faded, the store fronts and centers closed,
and the images of robed figures on street corners vanished
from the public eye. But for those who had been
part of it, and for those on the outside who

(01:08:08):
had watched it closely, the end was not the end.
The ideas, symbols, and myths of the Process did not disappear.
They lingered in scattered fragments, resurfacing in unexpected places for
decades to come. In the years immediately following the group's
transformation into the Foundation Church of the Millennium and later
the Best Friend's Animal Society, a narrative began to settle

(01:08:30):
into the public imagination. To some, the Process was remembered
as an eccentric, fringe religion, part of the broader wave
of sixties and seventies cults that had risen and fallen
with the tides of the counterculture. To others, it was
something darker, a dangerous movement whose theology flirted with the
extremes of good and evil, And to a smaller circle still,

(01:08:52):
it was a genuine spiritual experiment, flawed, perhaps, but driven
by an honest attempt to confront the duality of human names.
The early eighties were a quiet period in terms of
public attention. The group's rebranding was largely successful in deflecting
further controversy. The remaining members focused on their animal welfare work,

(01:09:12):
and the more apocalyptic elements of their theology were deliberately
left behind. But even in this quieter phase, the Process
continued to live on in the minds of writers, researchers,
and conspiracy theorists. A handful of journalists, still intrigued by
the group's earlier activities, kept digging. Books about cults often
included a chapter on the Process, typically heavy on sensational

(01:09:34):
imagery and light on nuance. These portrayals tended to focus
on the group's supposed connections to Charles Manson, the occult
or Satanism, even when the evidence was tenuous at best.
For Robert and mary Anne, the transition out of the
public spotlight was both a relief and a loss. They
had built something that, for a time commanded international attention,

(01:09:56):
and letting go of that role was no small thing.
Gradually withdrew from leadership entirely. Marianne, while less visible, retained
influence in shaping the group's work during its transitional years,
but both seemed to accept that the Process as it
had been was over. In the nineteen nineties, interest in
the Process began to stir again, driven partly by the

(01:10:17):
rise of the Internet. Early online forums and websites dedicated
to alternative religions, occult history, and conspiracy theories rediscovered the
group's publications. Scans of the Process Magazine, with its stark
black and white photographs and bold theological statements, began circulating
among curious readers for a new generation that had never

(01:10:39):
seen the Process in person. These images carried a strange allure.
They were a time capsule from an era when radical
ideas could still feel dangerous, when the line between spiritual
revelation and social menace was razor thin. Academics, too, began
revisiting the group's history. Some approached it through the lens
of religious studies, examining the Processes theology as a unique

(01:11:01):
attempt to reconcile seemingly opposing spiritual forces Jehovah and Lucifer,
Christ and Satan within a single framework. Others looked at
it as a case study in cult dynamics, tracing how
charismatic leadership, communal living, and a distinctive public image combined
to create a self contained world. The Process became, in

(01:11:22):
this way, an object lesson in both the possibilities and
the perils of total commitment to a visionary cause. Meanwhile,
in popular culture, the echoes of the Process appeared in
subtler forms. Musicians, especially in the darker fringes of rock
and industrial music, referenced the group in lyrics or imagery.
Some of these references were informed, drawn from actual reading

(01:11:44):
of the Process's writings. Others were purely esthetic, borrowing the
visual style of the Black Cloaks, the stark typography, and
the apocalyptic slogans without engaging deeply with the underlying theology.
In underground art scenes the process's imagery, it was occasionally
revived as a kind of cultural artifact, a symbol of
outsider rebellion. For former members, life after the process was

(01:12:07):
a more personal journey. Some left religion entirely, wary of
any form of organized belief after their years in a
high control environment. Others found new spiritual paths, bringing with
them elements of what they had learned in the process,
the emphasis on facing both light and dark, the value
of ritual, the sense of belonging to something larger than oneself.

(01:12:28):
A few maintained quiet connections with one another, forming informal
networks of ex members who could understand the unique intensity
of their shared past. The Best Friends Animal Society, now
entirely divorced from the process's theological roots, grew into one
of the largest animal welfare organizations in the United States.
Its success was a reminder that the community building skills

(01:12:50):
and dedication that had once fueled a religious movement could
be redirected toward a different kind of mission. Publicly, there
was little acknowledgment of the organization's origins in the pros
but those who knew the history recognized the continuity in
the commitment to a cause. In the realm of conspiracy theories,
the process never quite let go of its darker associations.

(01:13:11):
Writers seeking to weave a web of hidden connections between cults, crime,
and the occult often placed the group at a pivotal
point in their narratives. The Manson connection, though consistently disputed,
refused to die entirely. Occult symbolism in the group's publications
was times reinterpreted or misinterpreted as evidence of sinister influence.

(01:13:32):
In this way, the process became part of a larger
mythos of secret societies and hidden agendas, more often discussed
in whispers and online message boards than in serious scholarship.
The early two thousands brought a new wave of interest
from documentary filmmakers and true crime writers. The process was
revisited in books, films, and television programs about cults, the sixties, counterculture,

(01:13:56):
and the blurred lines between spiritual exploration and exploitation. While
some of these portrayals were responsible and nuanced, others leaned
heavily on the more sensational aspects of the story. The
result was a mixed legacy. On one hand, the Process
was remembered as a unique and thought provoking spiritual experiment.
On the other, it was cast as a shadowy and

(01:14:17):
dangerous organization with mysterious influence. For those trying to understand
the Process in its own terms, the challenge was always
to see past the myths, both the flattering and the damning,
to the reality of what it was like to live
inside it. Accounts from former members offer glimpses into daily life,
the communal chores, the study sessions, the long hours spent

(01:14:39):
on the street, engaging strangers in conversation. These details paint
a picture not just of ideology, but of a lived
experience that was demanding, immersive, and for many, transformative. The
final echo of the Process's legacy may be this. It
serves as a mirror for the people who study it.
To those fascinated by the occult, it is a daring
synthesis of spiritual extremes. To those wary of cults, it

(01:15:02):
is a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked authority
and isolation. To those who value community, it is proof
of how deeply humans can commit to a shared vision,
even at great personal cost. In the end, the processed
Church of the Final Judgment remains a paradox. It was
a movement that preached both unity and division, love and fear,

(01:15:24):
salvation and damnation. It was capable of inspiring intense devotion
and equally intense suspicion. And though the group itself is
long gone, the ripples it sent out into culture, religion,
and the world of ideas are still visible if you
know where to look. The story of the process is
a story of transformation, of how ideas are born, how

(01:15:44):
they grow, how they are tested, and how they sometimes
fade only to reappear in new forms. In that sense,
it is also a reminder that endings are rarely absolute.
Every dissolution leaves traces, and every trace can become the
seed of something new. Next time, we will move from
the shadowed streets and apocalyptic visions of the nineteen sixties

(01:16:05):
and seventies into the brightly lit, camera ready world of
social media influencers and viral choreography. But behind the curated
Instagram feeds and sponsored posts lies a story of control,
manipulation and a very modern form of high demand group.
Join me as we investigate the seven am TikTok cult
that's next time,

All Episodes

Episode Transcript

Popular Podcasts

New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce

Dateline NBC

On Purpose with Jay Shetty

.css-15opob5{left:0;position:absolute;top:0.8rem;} All Episodes

.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Ep.14 The Process Church of the Final Judgment

Episode Transcript

Popular Podcasts

.css-r6mb8g{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:1;overflow:hidden;}New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce

Dateline NBC

On Purpose with Jay Shetty

All Episodes

Ep.14 The Process Church of the Final Judgment

New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce