It therefore seems utterly ludicrous to think that some people voluntarily choose to leave behind their secure inner sanctuary. Why would anyone forsake such a fundamental aspect of one's constitution? The outside world is already a challenging and intimidating place as it is. Yet, this was precisely the type of crucial decision that I, a former Christian of 18 years, made after encountering an insurmountable Gordian Knot.
I usually follow the cardinal rule of thumb that prescribes refrain from speaking about sex, politics, and of course, religion. All three topics invite ample amounts of controversy and people often find themselves exchanging anything from heated shouting matches, hook punches, to even ballistic missiles as a result. But recent experiences, such as hassling visits from the Jehovah's Witnesses and the observation of religion-inspired terrorism (which isn't reserved just for Muslims, by the way), have compelled me to go off on a rant about religion. So if street smarts aren't really up my alley I might as well go all out, right?
No matter how intricately I try to portray the mind of an ex-Christian gone nonbeliever, I speculate that most of the religious will say or think something like, "I'll pray for you" or "The Lord is like a shepherd who secured ninety nine sheep yet goes looking for the hundredth lost one." But I'll nevertheless try and persuade the believer why I don't think intercessory prayer is necessary or why I don't think I am "lost." So if you have some time to kill, sit down and enjoy the show.
- Once upon a time, there was a happy Christian boy...
As far bak as I can remember, church had always been an integral aspect of my life. My mom had converted to Christianity (Presbyterianism, to be specific) during her youth after following a friend to church and virtually raised me in the church after marrying my dad. I still have fond childhood memories of going on Easter egg hunts and performing plays about Jesus' birth on Christmas. I even remember getting upset when a girl told her younger brother to throw away a Bible passage pamphlet that I had handed out because their mom taught them not to accept "propaganda material." Even though Sunday morning cartoons on TV were really hard to resist, I nevertheless obediently followed my mom to service because I had a strong feeling that it was the right thing to do.
My Christian faith became increasingly important to me in my teenaged years as my understanding of church teachings became more sophisticated. The story of Jesus Christ's selfless sacrifice on the cross rang true in my heart. I dedicated my life to the Lord, wishing to bear witness to the world that Jesus welcomes with open arms all who repent and come. Supportive friends and mentors in the church enriched my perception of life through prayer and discipleship and their companionship helped me cope with bumps along the road. And when I discovered my musical talent, I joined my youth group's worship band as a vocalist and rhythm acoustic guitarist. There was no other experience quite like singing on stage for God and leading a congregation of fellow worshippers.
- Am I different or am I fooling myself?
However, my increased maturity and heightened awareness of the Bible and its corresponding Christian doctrines began to show a few side effects. For instance, I had trouble reconciling the disparity between Yahweh's brutality in the Old Testament and Jesus' compassionate nature in the New Testament. "How can the same God act so differently?" I wondered. It seemed almost immoral to wipe out entire ethnic groups simply because its members didn't worship Yahweh. Where was the forgiveness and compassion? Is it ok to kill and take people's land and women because they are nonbelievers? But these questions didn't turn me away from God per se at the time. It was, after all, psychologically easier to reconcile that "things were different" back in Old Testament times and that Jesus had come to earth to show us a new way of living. Such quick mental fixes helped me proceed smoothly with my faith in the short term.
But things began to take a turn for the worse. Call me condescending but I began noticing some time in high school that I was different. I had always been troubled by the fact that church seemed to be more of a social event for many kids at my church than a place to glorify God. When I led worship, I sometimes wanted to scream from the stage when I saw youth group members folding paper airplanes out of bulletins and goofing around in the back row thinking that they were unseen. The aforementioned questioning of the Bible didn't stop either; whereas most kids seemed to have no problem "just believing as told," I found myself digging deeper and deeper. "Why does Cain fear murder when he's banished from the garden?" I asked, "I thought only Adam, Eve, and Abel existed?" I felt guilty and confused for judging others and having doubts. Surely I was being self-righteous in my zeal and devotion! I also remembered that Jesus chastised Thomas for not believing in His resurrection without touching His wounds first. I tried to find comfort in close companions, like the ones in the worship band, who seemed to share my passion. I prayed for wisdom when I found myself questioning and asked the Lord to show me the way. Unfortunately, I would soon find that the tipping point was just around the corner...
More to come in Part 2...
