So, a friend irl of mine is, once again (this happens all the time and I hate it), dealing with harassment from “Christians” and I feel feelings about it. (Btw, WWJD? Maybe not be a huge dick. Seemed like a chill guy to me when *I* read the gospels.)
There’s this funny thing that’s been happening to me for as long as I can remember. Since I was too young to read, I have been given “literature” explaining to me god’s great plan by Christians of all stripes and denominations. First, it started with my mother’s family. I can still remember the red script of the title against the oddly grained yellow book cover that said “My Book of Bible Stories” or something to that effect. It’s the McDonald’s color scheme that sticks with me, not the title, clearly. I would receive countless more books like these from that side of the family. Even though my mother, herself, had been forcibly ejected from that particular sect of Christianity, and had chosen not to return, still they sent me books, and letters, and propaganda, trying to, supposedly, save my soul.
The attempted indoctrination didn’t stop there. My parents put me in Catholic school in kindergarten, where I stayed until the school insisted that I be baptized and assigned godparents. My parents were okay with me exploring any religion I wanted, but my mother’s experience had taught her that I should be of the age of reason before I made any decisions about my religion. My mother was baptized at twelve, and she believed that was a mistake. She thought that she had been too young to know what she really believed and Young Sharon had made promises that Adult Sharon couldn’t keep. But she never prevented me from exploring such things. I went to Sunday School with a friend in third grade, went to the Wednesday afternoon bible study at the church next to the elementary school. I went to Catholic church with my best friend in middle school any time I stayed over on a Saturday night. I even tried again in high school, with some very odd evangelicals that spoke in tongues and really weirded me the fuck out.
Somehow, my little circle of girlfriends going through our obligatory weird girl Wiccan high school phase seemed less weird than the girl in the church sitting on the floor, two inches from the wall, laughing at it. At least, on some level, we knew the midsummer celebration was more about the slumber party than anything else. Jaycelyn, please stop putting your toe up my nose.
As I got older, I explored other faiths, other cultures. I dipped into Buddhism, read the Tao Te Ching to touch base with Taoism, was exposed in college to Shintoism, Hinduism, Islam. Nothing touched me. Until I read atheist writers, who told me that it was okay to not connect. That it was okay that I couldn’t believe what was being offered. That there was nothing after death, and that I could cope with that if I wanted to.
When I was young, my search through Christianity was an attempt to belong somewhere. And in this society, this culture, the easiest way to belong is to go to church. But I couldn’t belong somewhere when I was simply going through the motions, pretending to believe. After my father died, my search became more desperate, more about a search for meaning, a need to mitigate my loss.
After many years, I have come to absurdism. There is no meaning, and it is absurd to search for it. Let’s be absurd. Who cares? It’s not like anything matters so we might as well have some fun with this. For some this is bleak, empty and cold. For me it is freedom, joy and dread in equal parts. But I no longer cringe away from the parts of life that hurt. Because life is pain. And joy, and fear, and love, and, and, and…
My point? At no point did anything that anyone else did or didn’t do convince me to convert to any religion. The books, the pamphlets, the in-person visits, or the constant harassment and bullying all throughout my formative years, none of it did anything but show me what was on offer. I politely declined, because what was on offer looked sad and empty to me. A life spent longing for the next. Thank you, but no thank you. I’m grateful enough for what I have.
To be fair, the constant harassment and bullying by Christians has only made it clear to me that most of them don’t really know what their religion is even about, so I can’t learn anything about the universe or meaning from them. If you want to know why I’m not a Christian, ask yourself if you’ve ever done anything that might be considered bullying or harassment to try to shame someone into it. If that’s how you believe your god wants you to act, I want nothing to do with you or your god.
I am an absurdist agnostic atheist. If you want to know what that means, I’m happy to tell you. But if you want to offer me something else, stop. I know what you have. I do not want it. If you have it, and it brings you joy, I am genuinely happy for you and I would never want to take that away from you. Stop trying to give it to me. I. DO. NOT. WANT. IT.
