I have had doubts about Christianity since I was 12 years old; however, I did not allow myself much room to fully explore these doubts until about 3 years ago.
It has only been in the last year that I have become comfortable referring to myself as what I am: an atheist.
The first seeds of doubt were planted by unanswered prayers in a particularly traumatic childhood experience. I tried to pray the doubts away, I tried to study them away by doing twice daily devotionals and attending church twice a week and youth group once a week. I attended the annual youth rally āAcquire the Fireā. I played in a praise and worship band in college and even wrote my own songs addressed to God.
Through all of this, His presence was conspicuously absent. There were moments during particularly emotionally charged altar calls and praise and worship sessions in which I believed I felt Him, but these were few and far between and I could never, despite vigilant efforts, keep the āfireā burning.
As time progressed, I grew emotionally exhausted with the constant, one-sided efforts to keep my relationship with God vibrant. I stepped back to the role of ānominal Christian.ā if somebody asked, sure, I believed in God. But my āfaithā did not extend far beyond that. I stopped going to church because I couldnāt swallow the empty promises anymore. I stopped praying daily because I had the sinking feeling in my heart if hearts that I was calling a disconnected line.
After about a year stagnating in limbo, I decided I needed to make up my mind once and for all. Thereās a verse in the Bible (Luke, I believe) in which Jesus says that he will spit the āluke-warmā Christians from His mouth. The context and interpretation is that it is better to be honest (even according to the Bible) about your ācoldā disbelief or āhotā faith than to be walking the vague line between commitment and dismissal.
I picked up āJesus, Interruptedā in a bargain bin at the āgoing out of businessā sale of my local Borders. I actually felt shame bringing it up to the counter, and was hoping that I did not run into any of my believing friends as I completed the transaction. I almost didnāt buy it. I had my doubts about God, but somehow was still terrified of His Devine Wrath.
As I got home, I debated whether or not to read it. I was almost completely convinced that I would be better off just re-reading the same old Apologist arguments and reverting to my old state of tiresome faith, because that, at least, would offer me salvation from hell if it was correct. I beat down my own internalized debate on Pascaleās Wager with a simple utterance. It seemed so inspired that, had my search eventually led me back to my Christian faith, Iām sure I would have concluded that it was the voice of God himself. That phrase? āReal Truth (capital T) has nothing to fear from examination and scrutiny.ā
And so, I cracked the spine of āJesus, Interruptedā and I read it in a day flat. Each page found me saying, āhow did I miss this?ā more and more. From that point on, I was not only hooked on this line of research, but also compelled to share my findings. If youāll pardon the irony, mine was a righteous anger. Truly, I was PISSED that I had been so thoroughly indoctrinated even the most blatant of lies seemed to be the truth. I had missed every single contradiction, every single red flag of immorality, and every single question raising verse in this self-professed Holy Book. That it required a third party, speaking through the pages of a book I read at age 23 to break me of the spell of āDevine inspirationā is, frankly, a little shameful.
Not long after finishing āJesus, Interruptedā, I discovered The Thinking Atheist Radio Podcast. I listened to every archived show and it is now a weekly ritual to listen to the new broadcasts. Through the Podcast, I heard names Iād never heard before: Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Matt Dillahunty, Dan Barker, Jerry DeWitt, etc. Without the podcast as a centralized hub of information, Iām not sure I would have known where to go.
Looking back on my time as a believer now, I cannot believe how blinded I was. How oblivious! My life had been one of absolute acceptance and āchildlikeā faith. In the past 3 years, I have liberated myself from the chains of superstition, I have finally gotten it through my thick skull that, yes, it is OK to ask questions and yes, there are answers to those who seek them out.
From my point of view, a blanket of control and superstition, no matter how comforting in times of distress, does not come close to the wonder of curiosity, the freedom to ask hard questions, and the wealth of care for my fellow beings that has come from this journey.
Iām now 26, happily married to a fellow heathen, and raising a free thinking daughter.
I no longer bare the guilt of not feeling worthy, of failing every day, of fearing hellā¦ Instead, I live each moment to the fullest, knowing that this is the only life I have. And I hope, one day, to be able to share this message in a meaningful way with others. To join the fight for reason and morality. To leave a small footprint on this movement.
And thatās why this blog exists.
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