A casual conversation in Rundle Mall, a compliment from a stranger, or an invitation to a Bible study may seem harmless. But for some South Australian university students, these encounters have become the first step into the Shincheonji Church of Jesus, a controversial religious movement accused of deceptive recruitment and high-control practices. (Image: Dallas Reynolds)
By Dallas Reynolds | @dallasolivia_
It’s midday in Adelaide’s CBD, and Rundle Mall is bustling.
Students cross North Terrace; commuters wait beneath Grenfell Street bus shelters, already focused on lectures, shifts, and deadlines.
From the flow of pedestrians, two strangers approach young adults, often a man and a woman, sometimes two women.
They are friendly, unhurried and casually dressed.
They ask for directions, comment on something nearby, or start a conversation about restaurants in the area.
Eventually, the interaction shifts.
They mention they are “from the university” and ask if you would take part in a short student survey.
The questions seem harmless at first:
“Are you from Adelaide? Where were your parents born? What are you studying?”
No notes are taken. No forms are filled out.
Yet some students who later reflect on these encounters describe a subtle turning point. The conversation shifts toward religion, and contact details are exchanged.
For some, it marks the beginning of involvement with the Shincheonji Church of Jesus (SCJ) — a South Korean religious movement described by ABC News in January 2026 as an “apocalyptic Christian cult”.
Founded in 1984 by Lee Man-hee, SCJ presents itself as a Christian church centred on biblical prophecy.
It claims a global following in the hundreds of thousands, though estimates vary widely. Its expansion into Australia is understood to have begun around 2009, with activity reported across Adelaide, Sydney, Melbourne, and Brisbane. In Adelaide, its headquarters is a four-storey building located on Franklin Street.
What complicates SCJ’s presence is not only its scale but the way involvement often begins — gradually, socially, and without immediate disclosure of the organisation behind it.
Street approaches and first contact
Flinders University student Hima Sijo Padayattil says she was approached twice, the first time along North Terrace in late 2023.
“I remembered one of the recruiters from both interactions appearing to be slightly older, potentially in [their] late twenties or early thirties,” she says.
“They complimented something I was wearing and used that as an opening to ask more about me — potentially to see whether I fit their demographic.”
Padayattil says recruiters asked for her name, Instagram handle, field of study, university, and religious background.
“These details alone are enough to gain more personal information about me if they get in touch with the right connections,” she says.
She was later invited to a Bible study session run at Adelaide University’s City East campus.
“I felt uncomfortable because Bible classes aren’t usually this eager to get someone to sign up,” she says.
During a later interaction, she says she told recruiters she was Hindu rather than Catholic, after which the conversation quickly ended.
Padayattil describes both approaches as emotionally draining and says universities should do more to support students who may be targeted by groups such as SCJ.
“With the cost-of-living crisis at the moment, students may be more likely to attend events if they are told refreshments or meals will be provided,” she says.
Padayattil says she is concerned that students who become more involved with SCJ may later face expectations to financially support the organisation through donations and church contributions.
“Attending an event that I was told was on campus can make students more vulnerable… potentially isolating themselves from others and contributing their hard-earned money to SCJ,” she says.
She believes that having security on campus, checking IDs in common areas, and informing students about these recruiters can help prevent more students from joining.
“These recruiters have been spotted at both Flinders and Adelaide University, hence the universities working together to solve this issue,” Padayattil says.
From Bible study to commitment
Former Melbourne-based SCJ member Diane Nguyen left the group in January 2024 after what began as an introductory Bible study gradually evolved into a tightly controlled routine.
“At first, I thought I was fine with studying the Bible three times a week,” she says.
“But they also kept me occupied outside those sessions, including one-on-one revision meetings.”
After five months in SCJ, Nguyen says she was asked to keep her Sundays free for church services.
She says the process of becoming an “official” member was even more demanding.
“That’s when you dedicate your full time to them,” she says.
“They encourage you to quit your job and apply for Centrelink. The idea is that you still have money to donate to the church — 10 per cent of your income — while having more time for evangelical work.”
Members were also encouraged to distance themselves from family and friends because “everyone outside is under Satan’s control,” Nguyen says.
The intensity of that commitment is reflected in reports that Australian SCJ members have dropped out of university to devote themselves entirely to the group.
Nguyen says recruitment efforts extended beyond Bible study classes into youth-oriented social events, including Christmas parties, “chillax” gatherings and “aloha fest” events.
Promotional poster for an SCJ-organised event in Victoria. (Image credit: Diane Nguyen)
“The posters are usually vague about who is hosting the event or where it’s being held,” Nguyen says.
“If your ‘new friend’ invites you to an event and sends you a poster like that, there’s a good chance it’s SCJ.”
After six months of SCJ-run classes, Nguyen left the group and later connected with former members who shared similar experiences.
“Some of them had been there for eight or nine years,” she says.
“We formed a group to support each other mentally.”
In 2024, Nguyen filed a parliamentary e-petition calling for legislation addressing coercive control by organisations.
The petition received 628 signatures. In a formal response, the then Attorney-General, Mark Dreyfus, acknowledged the concerns raised and noted that any legal reform in this area would fall under the jurisdiction of state and territory governments.
Political and institutional scrutiny
Political attention on high-control groups has been increasing.
In April 2025, the Victorian Legislative Assembly’s Legal and Social Issues Committee launched an inquiry into cults and organised fringe groups, including recruitment practices and social impacts.
Submission No. 38 described SCJ recruitment as “deceptive evangelism”, alleging identity concealment at initial contact followed by a gradual process of isolation and behavioural control.
Brenton Griffin, a lecturer and teaching specialist at Flinders University with expertise in media and religion, says the inquiry reflects a broader gap in Australia’s public understanding of high-control groups.
“Cult is a contested term… those inside reject it. Those outside use it,” he says.
“There’s this delicate balance between being an open multicultural society and these high-control groups exploiting that…. I think there should be an awareness of recruitment methods.”
Griffin, who has personal experience of leaving Mormonism, says he struggled to find mental health support that understood religious trauma.
He says specialised professionals in these areas might be financially out of reach for university-aged students who have left groups like SCJ.
Instead, he points to organisations such as Recovering from Religion Australia & New Zealand, which provide in-person and over-the-phone support.
Griffin also suggests that universities need to play a greater preventative role in supporting domestic and international students in South Australia from SCJ.
“It’s difficult for staff to say, ‘don’t talk to these people’… that’s not their domain,” he says.
“But maybe they should be having a bit of a vetting process for renting out rooms.”
His comments follow a Reddit comment from May of 2026, alleging that SCJ-linked students are booking study spaces at the Adelaide University City West campus to run classes for recruits.
Expert perspectives on high-control groups
Australian journalist and podcast host Sarah Steel says groups like SCJ are characterised by control over members’ autonomy and decision-making.
“[Members] barely have any time to have other relationships with people outside [the group] and to do normal social activities,” Steel says.
“It’s trying to create a very closed environment where you don’t really have external touchpoints, so you become enmeshed in it.”
This extreme pressure to do evangelical work can have physiological effects on members.
“Often, the patterns I see might be impacts on how much sleep you get and your diet. These are things that keep your critical faculties down over time, so you’re less likely to be questioning what’s going on in the organisation,” she says.
Steel also notes that university students are particularly vulnerable to recruiters, as they are in a period of life transitions.
“When you’re moving out of home, thinking about your future, you’re often really idealistic,” she says.
“For international students, that dynamic is even more magnified because you’re away from home and trying to find a community.”
As of 2026, Adelaide University has about 17,500 international students, while Flinders University hosts between 5,400 and 6,000.
Officials at Adelaide University were contacted for comment on SCJ’s presence on campus, but did not respond prior to publication.
“These groups are around us everywhere,” Steel says.
“The more we can recognise them, the better chance we have of preventing people from losing years of their lives.”