Building Scientopolis
How Scientology remade Clearwater, Florida—and what local Christians learned in the process.
By Jody Veenker with additional reporting by Steve Rabey | posted 9/8/00 | posted 9/04/2000 12:00AM
By all appearances, Clearwater lives up to its name. Located just outside of Tampa Bay, the city boasts palm trees, white beaches, sun, surf, and six cruise tour companies with "dolphin sightings guaranteed." Liberally supplied with spacious hotels within driving distance of the Busch Gardens amusement park and the Salvador Dali museum, Clearwater is a tidy burg with street names like Gulf to Bay Boulevard and Sunset Point Road.
Clearwater is also home to the most prestigious international instructional center for the Church of Scientology, one of the most controversial and aggressive new religions worldwide. In the past 25 years, the growth of Scientology in Clearwater has transformed the city's downtown corridor, reshaped its religious climate, and caused Christian churches to rethink their response to religions that proclaim an unbiblical message.
In 1975 Scientology owned two of the major buildings in downtown Clearwater. Now the Church of Scientology boasts 30, including a newly constructed center that will expand its ability to train new members by 400 percent. Scientology's influence is felt in city planning, community events, and service projects; many Clearwater Christians are stunned by how Scientology is redefining their community. To reach out with cultural sensitivity, the Church of Scientology employs many methods Christians have used over the centuries: showing compassion for the vulnerable and striving to be a model corporate citizen. But individuals and organizations tell stories of having been harassed, threatened, or sued.
Some Christians in Clearwater call Scientology a pushy, money-driven cult that preys on the vulnerable. Others avoid confrontation, striving to tolerate or even welcome Scientology as a member of the religious community.
Bill Anderson, pastor of Calvary Baptist Church of Clearwater for the past 25 years, says it has been difficult to treat Scientologists with love while countering their teachings with biblical truth. "This has really sharpened my focus about the exclusivity of the gospel," Anderson told Christianity Today. "Part of my challenge as a pastor has been trying to help my people live not only as good people but to live as good witnesses. Too often, I'm afraid, Christians are afraid to stand on the fact that only Jesus can save you."
After years of aloofness, several prominent Clearwater churches are recommitting themselves to work side by side in neighborhood evangelism to reach the entire community, including the Church of Scientology. As Scientology expands internationally, Clearwater's Christians hope that what they have learned from dealing with Scientology will help other Christians worldwide.
False religion?J. Gordon Melton, a leading scholar of contemporary religious movements, says Scientology differs from many alternative religions because Scientologists aim to utterly remake the world instead of taking refuge from it.
"Unlike the Mormons [in the late 19th century] who only wanted to be left alone, Scientologists want to participate in culture," Melton says. "They have inherited a perspective from the 1960s social activists."
Scientologists have made persistent and persuasive efforts to win the favor of key officials and municipal leaders in Clearwater. When downtown Clearwater was in decline in the 1970s, the Church of Scientology bought real estate, investing millions of dollars in its properties.
Scientology members clean vacant lots, plant sea oats to stop beach erosion, and hang holiday decorations in December. They led volunteer citizen councils to prepare the city for Y2K and created their own Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops. Scientologists hold annual parties for local orphans, support anti-drug education in community schools, and sponsor Winter Wonderland, a children's carnival, every Christmas season.
September 4 2000, Vol. 44, No. 10