Why I Still Believe ā and Why I Left the Baptists Behind
Iām not a Christian just because I was raised one.
Iām not here out of habit or blind tradition. I donāt follow Jesus because itās easy or convenient. I believe because Iāve seen things ā experienced things ā that no science, no psychology, no skeptic could ever explain away.
Iāve seen spirits. Iāve seen the shadow people ā felt their presence, their awareness. And Iāve had dreams so vivid, so lucid, that I donāt even call them dreams anymore. Iāve spoken with my grandfather, long dead, and it wasnāt just memory or longing. He looked at me. He spoke to me. And I remember every word.
I canāt prove what I experienced. Iām not asking anyone to believe me. But I know what I saw. I know what I felt. And thatās why I still believe ā because something beyond this world touched my life. And it changed me forever.
But belief in God is not the same as loyalty to a church.
For 23 years, I was part of the Southern Baptist tradition. I grew up in that world ā 1990s, early 2000s ā hearing the usual sermons: āLove thy neighbor,ā āLove God,ā āJesus saves.ā And as a kid, I believed that. I wanted to believe the message of love and grace.
But by the late 2000s, something shifted. Or maybe I just started seeing things for what they really were.
Suddenly, Jesus was being used to justify hate ā hate against Muslims, against the LGBT community, against liberals, against Obama, against anyone who didnāt fit their mold. And sometimes, the racism wasnāt even subtle. I started to ask: how can a church preach about the love of Christ and turn around to spit venom at āthe otherā?
Then came 2015. Obergefell v. Hodges. Gay marriage was legalized across the U.S., and Protestant churches ā after decades of saying theyād āstay out of politicsā ā exploded with rage. The sermons were full of condemnation, not compassion. Iām not gay, but the hatred they spewed sounded exactly like the hate I used to hear from the bullies who tormented me in school. The same tone. The same cruelty. And I thought: I canāt be part of this anymore.
The last straw? The way churches like Westboro dragged the word āBaptistā through the mud, turning it into a symbol of bigotry and cruelty.
By 2016, I felt like I had no place in Godās world. I felt alone. Like maybe faith was just another excuse people used to hate each other.
But then I started hearing the voice of someone different. Someone who didnāt sound like the preachers I grew up with.
In 2013, he said five words that began to change everything for me: āWho am I to judge?ā When he spoke about compassion, about the marginalized, about embracing the broken and the different ā even gays ā something inside me stirred. Even though Iām straight, his words touched something in me that had been ignored by the church of my youth.
So on February 5, 2017, I walked into a Catholic Church for the first time in my life.
And Iāve never looked back.
That church, that moment, that grace ā it reminded me why I believed in the first place. Not because of fear. Not because of tradition. But because God is real. Because Christās love is real. And because I have seen and felt things no one can take away from me.
I can only hope Pope Leo lives up to Pope Francisā example ā of humility, of kindness, of mercy.
I didnāt leave the Southern Baptist Church because I lost my faith.
I left because I found it.
