By TheAtheistCrusader ~
It is absolutely refreshing to see a site for people like me, who have
left Christianity, and the Roman Catholic Church no less. For 10 years
of my life, I blindly followed the Bible, never reading it in it's
entirety (only some Bible Study-style, alibical versions). Then one
night, when I had an identity crisis, I finally realized: "God and
Devil are just epitomizations. Neither exist". Then came the reading
the real Bible time. And boy was I horrified. Once I got to
Deuteronomy, I just dropped it, and said "This is a nice God. If
another nicer God exists, I'll go to him".
1. Believers 2. Religion 3. Atheists 4. Science
1. Believers 2. Religion 3. Atheists 4. Science (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
After this series of events, I was in an identity crisis. I was a
Deist, or as Frederich Nietzche would say "Tied on a rope between two
spans". I examined all sorts of religions, to see one with a nicer
God. Then one day, I went on the Atheist Republic page on Facebook
(great community page, I suggest you see it) and read quotes from
famous atheists. I then realized "The best God is no God". I then
decided to read some Hitchens and some Harris. This finished it. After
I saw the clever arguments portrayed by the "Unholy Trinity", my
de-conversion was complete.
My life was very hard during the time of my Christian faith. Instead
of doing something about it, I just prayed to God, hoping it would get
better. But finally, when I became an atheist, I fully understood what
I faced, and actually did something about it and my life changed
dramatically for the better! Thus, atheism really did save me.
Ironically as a Catholic, I never ever doubted evolution, thinking God
controlled it. Yet, I finally realized that the Catholics are the Mitt
Romney of religion "I'm for science. I'm against it. I'm for it. I'm
against it".
I am much happier as an atheist then as a christian. I also realized,
in my long, tedious debates with zealots, that "Leave the ignorant
alone". I know devote myself to science instead of serving the mass.
At last, I found my vocation.
With much hope that Evangelicals will one day shut up,
TheAtheistCrusader
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Monday, 14 May 2012
A Dear God letter
By Danimal ~
Dear God,
We have had a tumultuous relationship over the years. In spite of
being physically abused as a boy and relentlessly bullied in school, I
never blamed you for those. Even when I had difficulty making friends
and maintaining friendships, I was to blame. I was the one born into
sin. I was the one flawed. I could never blame someone who was holy
and knew what was best for me.
We never went to church as a family. I didn't learn about you until I
was 17 when I was introduced to an Assemblies of God church. There I
learned that your worship was vibrant and emotional. I learned about
the gifts of the spirit. I also learned about hypocrisy and narrow
mindedness. But, we're only saved, not perfect, right?
You and I grew apart from each other when I joined the Army. I was
leading a new, exciting life. I really didn't need you much. When I
returned to the university, you and I got back together again. I
didn't return to Pentecostalism. You lead me to various evangelical
churches. Sure, the people tended to be bizarre at times and always
narrow minded. But, we are all sinners. Who was I to judge your elect?
I eventually got married, found work, had four children, and
eventually joined a United Methodist church. According to most people,
you had richly blessed me. It was far from the real truth.
Ever since I can remember, I had difficulty getting along with people.
I often didn't understand things people said to me. Because I could
never look people directly in the eye, I was called "dishonest" and a
"liar". I struggled with all the abstractions in sermons and in the
bible. I was plagued with depression and despair. I was told that I
was being attacked by Satan because I was "backslidden". Who was I to
question Christians who were so much more spiritual than me?
I spent years in counseling. I was on powerful psychotropic
medications. I sometimes spent days being nothing but a zombie. I
spent time under the care of a psychiatrist. All this time I blamed my
lack of faith. If only I was as spiritual as my friends at church
were. If only I was a great christian father and husband, you would
deliver me from the hell my mind was in. I prayed for deliverance.
Even though I received nothing but silence, I still believed you were
listening.
God, did I say "friends"? What I really had at church was
"fellowship". Those that I thought were friends actually considered
themselves "mentors". They believed that I was inferior to them
spiritually, I needed their help, God, if you were to really love me.
I was always told that you never send more than we can bear. I
believed that until a year ago. I finally had an answer to all my
various mental afflictions: Aspergers syndrome, a form of high
functioning autism. God, I was crushed. The more I learned, the more I
realized why I think so concretely, don't understand abstractions,
have limited capacity to interact with others, and have various
sensory difficulties. Finally, I realized that you had indeed sent me
more affliction than I could bear.
For months I questioned my faith. For the first time, I questioned
you, God. As usual, there were no answers. I asked your spiritual
people questions, but they began to shun me. I began attending church
less and less. I quit singing those songs you love so much. I
discovered that I had no friends in church. I discovered,
metaphorically, the emperor had no clothes. Many Christians were
actually delusional. Your scripture wasn't inspired, but was written
by men. Finally, God, I realized you were simply an invention of men,
as well.
So, God, it's time to say goodbye. It's time for me to move on so I
can work through my autism the best I can. My prayers over the years
were directed to a being who didn't exist in the first place. God, you
will have company with my discarded myths of Santa Claus, the tooth
fairy, and the Easter bunny. I would like to say that I'm sorry, but
I'm not.
I know finally that I'm not the plaything of invisible super-beings. I
live in a world that is often not fair. A world that formed over
billions of years is far more wonderful than anything religion can add
to it.
So, God, sayonara,auf wiedersehen, au revoir.
Sincerely,
Danimal
Dear God,
We have had a tumultuous relationship over the years. In spite of
being physically abused as a boy and relentlessly bullied in school, I
never blamed you for those. Even when I had difficulty making friends
and maintaining friendships, I was to blame. I was the one born into
sin. I was the one flawed. I could never blame someone who was holy
and knew what was best for me.
We never went to church as a family. I didn't learn about you until I
was 17 when I was introduced to an Assemblies of God church. There I
learned that your worship was vibrant and emotional. I learned about
the gifts of the spirit. I also learned about hypocrisy and narrow
mindedness. But, we're only saved, not perfect, right?
You and I grew apart from each other when I joined the Army. I was
leading a new, exciting life. I really didn't need you much. When I
returned to the university, you and I got back together again. I
didn't return to Pentecostalism. You lead me to various evangelical
churches. Sure, the people tended to be bizarre at times and always
narrow minded. But, we are all sinners. Who was I to judge your elect?
I eventually got married, found work, had four children, and
eventually joined a United Methodist church. According to most people,
you had richly blessed me. It was far from the real truth.
Ever since I can remember, I had difficulty getting along with people.
I often didn't understand things people said to me. Because I could
never look people directly in the eye, I was called "dishonest" and a
"liar". I struggled with all the abstractions in sermons and in the
bible. I was plagued with depression and despair. I was told that I
was being attacked by Satan because I was "backslidden". Who was I to
question Christians who were so much more spiritual than me?
I spent years in counseling. I was on powerful psychotropic
medications. I sometimes spent days being nothing but a zombie. I
spent time under the care of a psychiatrist. All this time I blamed my
lack of faith. If only I was as spiritual as my friends at church
were. If only I was a great christian father and husband, you would
deliver me from the hell my mind was in. I prayed for deliverance.
Even though I received nothing but silence, I still believed you were
listening.
God, did I say "friends"? What I really had at church was
"fellowship". Those that I thought were friends actually considered
themselves "mentors". They believed that I was inferior to them
spiritually, I needed their help, God, if you were to really love me.
I was always told that you never send more than we can bear. I
believed that until a year ago. I finally had an answer to all my
various mental afflictions: Aspergers syndrome, a form of high
functioning autism. God, I was crushed. The more I learned, the more I
realized why I think so concretely, don't understand abstractions,
have limited capacity to interact with others, and have various
sensory difficulties. Finally, I realized that you had indeed sent me
more affliction than I could bear.
For months I questioned my faith. For the first time, I questioned
you, God. As usual, there were no answers. I asked your spiritual
people questions, but they began to shun me. I began attending church
less and less. I quit singing those songs you love so much. I
discovered that I had no friends in church. I discovered,
metaphorically, the emperor had no clothes. Many Christians were
actually delusional. Your scripture wasn't inspired, but was written
by men. Finally, God, I realized you were simply an invention of men,
as well.
So, God, it's time to say goodbye. It's time for me to move on so I
can work through my autism the best I can. My prayers over the years
were directed to a being who didn't exist in the first place. God, you
will have company with my discarded myths of Santa Claus, the tooth
fairy, and the Easter bunny. I would like to say that I'm sorry, but
I'm not.
I know finally that I'm not the plaything of invisible super-beings. I
live in a world that is often not fair. A world that formed over
billions of years is far more wonderful than anything religion can add
to it.
So, God, sayonara,auf wiedersehen, au revoir.
Sincerely,
Danimal
Sunday, 13 May 2012
What is truth
By Kolby ~
It has been about a year and a half now since I have de-converted from
Christianity. I still feel even though I have internally embraced this
new walk of life, that there is still a cross to bear with religion. I
have a family of my own (my wife who is a Christian, and a two year
old son). I as well still work for a religious organization for almost
2 and a half years coming up. I have told my wife a year ago & she had
taken it pretty well (as she is more laidback in her faith). She has
told me however it could be a 'desert place' until god brings me back,
but the truth is I will never go back to something so manipulative.
How I lost my faith started one day while I was researching the bible,
and oddly this question came to me 'What is truth?'. Although very
simple, this question I could not just throw faith at. This question
came from my very gut begging the response. As I pondered to give
reason for Jesus, the bible, personal experience to faith, the more I
tried the more something interesting had occurred. For the very first
time I was thinking for myself. As I thought and weighed what faith I
had verses these practical questions, I found myself comparing
religions/faiths/sciences all together and it was so eye-opening! I
wasn't scared at all b/c I was completely by myself and so I had the
whole day to wrestle faith with thought. It made me rather upset at
the same time that I had bought into the hype of religion so naively
when I first 'got saved', primarily because I knew no better, and
handed trust innocently over to the 'seasoned in faith' to tell me how
to believe instead of being guided individually on how to believe.
After leaving the faith I scheduled time with the pastor and
leadership of the church to be open with my new stance (and honestly
to see if they would provide some reason for me to still believe). But
in speaking with them mostly on the issues of hell I happened ~ just
with honest questions and examples to stump even them! And they
responded "Well you just gotta have faith brother! The bible says
after all to lean not on your own understanding but trust in the
Lord.) Geeze……Now, I wonder why the bible would say such a thing?
Maybe because if you used your head you'd realize there is a whole
world out there full of possibilities! And even when I saw the
dumbfounded look on their faces due to basic common sense, they
retorted to Christian authors about these authors' sayings and
evidences. I continued to make my point rather upset to say to them
that "with all due respect if you have use outside sources and
rehearsed answers, is it any wonder you need faith in religion if you
can't honestly ponder the depth the yourselves?". They all looked
distraught, like I had just ripped them off. But it was clear with the
sad and shady looks that I was going have to move on. I still consider
them friends, but we hardly see each other anymore.
As for my wife, she has oddly followed suit with me for she only
attends church once in a while. Even when I was a 'super Christian'
attending everything under the sun, she would not do anything that
encouraged bible reading or prayer so much as being a part of the
social gathering of things which I found strange in my 'super
Christian' days. But talking with her about bible reading and prayer
she felt was fake and rehearsed in group settings, which I agree it
was myself. She has her parents however who are proud elders of their
church, and you can practically see it when they put the ministry face
on. They have taken recent notice of my dispassion and much time I
spend by myself now and have questioned my spiritual walk. At this
point I have brushed off honesty to save face mostly for the sake of
my wife and my job, to say I still believe. I really don't want any
level of a holy jihad with the in-laws, or the losing of a well-paid
job to support my family over some silly beliefs – that most don't
seem to understand anyways. But I do feel for all the closet
agnostic-atheist others who in similar circumstances cannot parade to
the full extent of their beliefs. I am half way out of the closet, and
have been searching for some type of Agnostic support group (to gain
new friends who think as I do, & about how to take the next steps to
become fully open in my new walk of life). I hope this encourages
those who are going through a similar walk. If anyone can lend some
advice on taking the next step or how you handled the situation to be
fully open, anything would be much appreciated! Thanks.
It has been about a year and a half now since I have de-converted from
Christianity. I still feel even though I have internally embraced this
new walk of life, that there is still a cross to bear with religion. I
have a family of my own (my wife who is a Christian, and a two year
old son). I as well still work for a religious organization for almost
2 and a half years coming up. I have told my wife a year ago & she had
taken it pretty well (as she is more laidback in her faith). She has
told me however it could be a 'desert place' until god brings me back,
but the truth is I will never go back to something so manipulative.
How I lost my faith started one day while I was researching the bible,
and oddly this question came to me 'What is truth?'. Although very
simple, this question I could not just throw faith at. This question
came from my very gut begging the response. As I pondered to give
reason for Jesus, the bible, personal experience to faith, the more I
tried the more something interesting had occurred. For the very first
time I was thinking for myself. As I thought and weighed what faith I
had verses these practical questions, I found myself comparing
religions/faiths/sciences all together and it was so eye-opening! I
wasn't scared at all b/c I was completely by myself and so I had the
whole day to wrestle faith with thought. It made me rather upset at
the same time that I had bought into the hype of religion so naively
when I first 'got saved', primarily because I knew no better, and
handed trust innocently over to the 'seasoned in faith' to tell me how
to believe instead of being guided individually on how to believe.
After leaving the faith I scheduled time with the pastor and
leadership of the church to be open with my new stance (and honestly
to see if they would provide some reason for me to still believe). But
in speaking with them mostly on the issues of hell I happened ~ just
with honest questions and examples to stump even them! And they
responded "Well you just gotta have faith brother! The bible says
after all to lean not on your own understanding but trust in the
Lord.) Geeze……Now, I wonder why the bible would say such a thing?
Maybe because if you used your head you'd realize there is a whole
world out there full of possibilities! And even when I saw the
dumbfounded look on their faces due to basic common sense, they
retorted to Christian authors about these authors' sayings and
evidences. I continued to make my point rather upset to say to them
that "with all due respect if you have use outside sources and
rehearsed answers, is it any wonder you need faith in religion if you
can't honestly ponder the depth the yourselves?". They all looked
distraught, like I had just ripped them off. But it was clear with the
sad and shady looks that I was going have to move on. I still consider
them friends, but we hardly see each other anymore.
As for my wife, she has oddly followed suit with me for she only
attends church once in a while. Even when I was a 'super Christian'
attending everything under the sun, she would not do anything that
encouraged bible reading or prayer so much as being a part of the
social gathering of things which I found strange in my 'super
Christian' days. But talking with her about bible reading and prayer
she felt was fake and rehearsed in group settings, which I agree it
was myself. She has her parents however who are proud elders of their
church, and you can practically see it when they put the ministry face
on. They have taken recent notice of my dispassion and much time I
spend by myself now and have questioned my spiritual walk. At this
point I have brushed off honesty to save face mostly for the sake of
my wife and my job, to say I still believe. I really don't want any
level of a holy jihad with the in-laws, or the losing of a well-paid
job to support my family over some silly beliefs – that most don't
seem to understand anyways. But I do feel for all the closet
agnostic-atheist others who in similar circumstances cannot parade to
the full extent of their beliefs. I am half way out of the closet, and
have been searching for some type of Agnostic support group (to gain
new friends who think as I do, & about how to take the next steps to
become fully open in my new walk of life). I hope this encourages
those who are going through a similar walk. If anyone can lend some
advice on taking the next step or how you handled the situation to be
fully open, anything would be much appreciated! Thanks.
Who is arrogant ?
By WizenedSage (Galen Rose) ~
It appears to be fashionable these days to call atheists arrogant.
Over and over we read how Dawkins is arrogant, Hitchens perhaps even
more so, and Sam Harris is clearly just a "know-it-all" with an
attitude problem. In fact, if you read the postings on this site for a
bit, you will "learn" that we un-famous atheists are arrogant, too.
Now, if expressing an unpopular opinion means that one is arrogant,
then we have no defense. But, let's look at a typical dictionary
definition of the word: "Arrogant; having or showing an exaggerated
opinion of one's own importance, merit, ability, etc.; conceited;
overbearingly proud."
That part about "having or showing an exaggerated opinion of one's own
importance, merit, ability," catches my eye. Isn't it Christians who
claim they are god's "saved?" Talk about "one's own importance!" Isn't
it Christians who claim they KNOW which is the real god and what he
wants from us? Mightn't that be an exaggerated opinion of one's
abilities? I certainly wouldn't claim the ability to identify a real
god, with any certainty. So who is the arrogant one, here?
While the Christian claims he KNOWS with certainty that Bible-god is
the one true god, I humbly submit that different people have claimed
thousands of different gods to be the one true god, we know for
certain that thousands of those were false gods, and so I have no
confidence that I could do any better spotting the real god than those
people did. Do you not see the difference here? The very fact that men
have followed thousands of false gods convinces me that we humans are
hopeless when it comes to identifying which gods are real and which
are false.
But the Christian brushes all that aside, because he knows. And how
does he know? Because people told him so, or he feels it, or both. The
Bible tells him which is the real god, though how the Christian can
tell the Bible is the real "holy" book and not one of the others, like
the Quran, the Bhagavad Gita, etc., he seems unable to explain. But,
generally this doesn't trouble him because he feels the presence of
the one true god within himself. How he knows which god it is that he
feels must remain a mystery.
William Lane Craig speaks of the "self-verification" of the Holy Ghost
within himself being sufficient proof of god for him, and most
Christians would buy this. Call me a nit picker, but I have a problem
with anyone claiming they can feel the truth. I have first-hand
experience on this issue which convinces me that these people are just
fooling themselves. I once felt the presence of a god, and constantly
"conversed" with this god inside my head. I no longer feel that
presence. Obviously, god either exists or he doesn't, and my feelings
have never been able to prove it either way because my feelings have
been on both sides of the issue. In other words, my feelings failed to
prove anything. Now, who is the arrogant one? Is it Craig, who claims
he can feel truth, or me, who has no confidence in his feelings as a
test of truth? It seems that old adage applies here: Faith means never
having to say you're wrong.
Many Christians are so arrogantly certain that they have the truth
that they have no interest in studying further. Many will deny
evolution, although they obviously have never read anything on
evolution that wasn't written by creationists.
Also, home schooling is apparently on the rise in America today. Why?
Because many Christian parents don't want their children exposed to
unapproved information. Christian parents and preachers seem to be
insisting that what people "knew" 2,000 years ago is more important
than anything man has learned since. Most Christian congregations
encourage their members to avoid marrying outside the faith, and some
even frown on members even mingling with non-Christians. There is a
pattern here. It appears that Christians are so sure they have the
truth that they often actively avoid gaining further information. It
seems to me that if one truly wants to find the truth, the real truth,
then he should follow the path containing the MOST information. Isn't
this obvious?
I find that most of the atheists I know are hungry for information. A
great many are science enthusiasts and are well read in world history.
Tellingly, many atheists are also surprisingly conversant in theology.
Now who are the arrogant ones? Are those who are constantly seeking
more information and revising their opinions really the arrogant ones?
That was a rhetorical question – no answer necessary.
So, Christians are convinced they have the truth because they have
been told this (by the Bible, preachers, parents, etc.), or they feel
it, or both, while atheists suspect there is no god. Now, I don't know
of any atheists who think they can prove there is no god. They merely
believe that gods are extremely unlikely, like dragons are unlikely,
and so they don't believe in them.
For myself, I don't believe in gods because I know I cannot trust my
feelings to identify the truth, and I don't know why I should be able
to tell a real god when I see one, any more than those millions
throughout history who have worshipped thousands of false gods. Did I
say, "when I see one?" Yes, and I meant to say that, for that is
exactly the problem, you see. All gods are invisible. How convenient.
As Discordia recently pointed out on this site, the Christian god is
all-powerful and can do anything, anything at all, it appears, except
prove that he exists. Well, he either can't or won't prove it, and it
really doesn't much matter which it is. For thousands of years we
humans have been fighting over which is the real god, or which sect
has the real truth. We have mistreated each other horribly over these
questions, from the Crusades through the Inquisitions, to fighting
over abortion and gay marriage. Given this history, I think we humans
have a right - and maybe even a moral obligation to each other - to
refuse acceptance of the claims pertaining to any god until that god
proves his or her existence. If there's a real god, then he/she surely
would understand this position.
It is because I am NOT arrogant that I make this proposal. It is
because I recognize that I cannot prove whether there is or isn't a
god. Think about it: why in hell should we humans suffer, generation
after generation, for our gullibility - simply because some god can't
or won't prove that he exists such that we can all agree on it? This
is a lousy, unfair deal, and we should simply refuse it. And what kind
of perverse, arrogant god would fault us for refusing to beat each
other up over gods any longer, while he refuses to prove decisively
that he exists?
It appears to be fashionable these days to call atheists arrogant.
Over and over we read how Dawkins is arrogant, Hitchens perhaps even
more so, and Sam Harris is clearly just a "know-it-all" with an
attitude problem. In fact, if you read the postings on this site for a
bit, you will "learn" that we un-famous atheists are arrogant, too.
Now, if expressing an unpopular opinion means that one is arrogant,
then we have no defense. But, let's look at a typical dictionary
definition of the word: "Arrogant; having or showing an exaggerated
opinion of one's own importance, merit, ability, etc.; conceited;
overbearingly proud."
That part about "having or showing an exaggerated opinion of one's own
importance, merit, ability," catches my eye. Isn't it Christians who
claim they are god's "saved?" Talk about "one's own importance!" Isn't
it Christians who claim they KNOW which is the real god and what he
wants from us? Mightn't that be an exaggerated opinion of one's
abilities? I certainly wouldn't claim the ability to identify a real
god, with any certainty. So who is the arrogant one, here?
While the Christian claims he KNOWS with certainty that Bible-god is
the one true god, I humbly submit that different people have claimed
thousands of different gods to be the one true god, we know for
certain that thousands of those were false gods, and so I have no
confidence that I could do any better spotting the real god than those
people did. Do you not see the difference here? The very fact that men
have followed thousands of false gods convinces me that we humans are
hopeless when it comes to identifying which gods are real and which
are false.
But the Christian brushes all that aside, because he knows. And how
does he know? Because people told him so, or he feels it, or both. The
Bible tells him which is the real god, though how the Christian can
tell the Bible is the real "holy" book and not one of the others, like
the Quran, the Bhagavad Gita, etc., he seems unable to explain. But,
generally this doesn't trouble him because he feels the presence of
the one true god within himself. How he knows which god it is that he
feels must remain a mystery.
William Lane Craig speaks of the "self-verification" of the Holy Ghost
within himself being sufficient proof of god for him, and most
Christians would buy this. Call me a nit picker, but I have a problem
with anyone claiming they can feel the truth. I have first-hand
experience on this issue which convinces me that these people are just
fooling themselves. I once felt the presence of a god, and constantly
"conversed" with this god inside my head. I no longer feel that
presence. Obviously, god either exists or he doesn't, and my feelings
have never been able to prove it either way because my feelings have
been on both sides of the issue. In other words, my feelings failed to
prove anything. Now, who is the arrogant one? Is it Craig, who claims
he can feel truth, or me, who has no confidence in his feelings as a
test of truth? It seems that old adage applies here: Faith means never
having to say you're wrong.
Many Christians are so arrogantly certain that they have the truth
that they have no interest in studying further. Many will deny
evolution, although they obviously have never read anything on
evolution that wasn't written by creationists.
Also, home schooling is apparently on the rise in America today. Why?
Because many Christian parents don't want their children exposed to
unapproved information. Christian parents and preachers seem to be
insisting that what people "knew" 2,000 years ago is more important
than anything man has learned since. Most Christian congregations
encourage their members to avoid marrying outside the faith, and some
even frown on members even mingling with non-Christians. There is a
pattern here. It appears that Christians are so sure they have the
truth that they often actively avoid gaining further information. It
seems to me that if one truly wants to find the truth, the real truth,
then he should follow the path containing the MOST information. Isn't
this obvious?
I find that most of the atheists I know are hungry for information. A
great many are science enthusiasts and are well read in world history.
Tellingly, many atheists are also surprisingly conversant in theology.
Now who are the arrogant ones? Are those who are constantly seeking
more information and revising their opinions really the arrogant ones?
That was a rhetorical question – no answer necessary.
So, Christians are convinced they have the truth because they have
been told this (by the Bible, preachers, parents, etc.), or they feel
it, or both, while atheists suspect there is no god. Now, I don't know
of any atheists who think they can prove there is no god. They merely
believe that gods are extremely unlikely, like dragons are unlikely,
and so they don't believe in them.
For myself, I don't believe in gods because I know I cannot trust my
feelings to identify the truth, and I don't know why I should be able
to tell a real god when I see one, any more than those millions
throughout history who have worshipped thousands of false gods. Did I
say, "when I see one?" Yes, and I meant to say that, for that is
exactly the problem, you see. All gods are invisible. How convenient.
As Discordia recently pointed out on this site, the Christian god is
all-powerful and can do anything, anything at all, it appears, except
prove that he exists. Well, he either can't or won't prove it, and it
really doesn't much matter which it is. For thousands of years we
humans have been fighting over which is the real god, or which sect
has the real truth. We have mistreated each other horribly over these
questions, from the Crusades through the Inquisitions, to fighting
over abortion and gay marriage. Given this history, I think we humans
have a right - and maybe even a moral obligation to each other - to
refuse acceptance of the claims pertaining to any god until that god
proves his or her existence. If there's a real god, then he/she surely
would understand this position.
It is because I am NOT arrogant that I make this proposal. It is
because I recognize that I cannot prove whether there is or isn't a
god. Think about it: why in hell should we humans suffer, generation
after generation, for our gullibility - simply because some god can't
or won't prove that he exists such that we can all agree on it? This
is a lousy, unfair deal, and we should simply refuse it. And what kind
of perverse, arrogant god would fault us for refusing to beat each
other up over gods any longer, while he refuses to prove decisively
that he exists?
Wednesday, 9 May 2012
Late for church - The journey of a catholic out of Christianity
By u2wob ~
LATE FOR CHURCH
Late for church. And I lived just across the street. Following a few
other tardy parishioners up the steps to St. Brendan's, I quickened my
pace, but only in hopes they would hold the door for me. Too late.
They were already in. I pulled the door open and quickly moved through
the vestibule glancing up at the pulpit where Father
I-Don't-Remember-His-Name glared back at me as I moved down the aisle
searching for a seat.
"Here's another one," he barked, voice reverberating powerfully as it
only can inside a cavernous building. "Another insolent person who
shows his disrespect to God by wandering in here at whatever time he
chooses." Heads turned and now dozens of eyes were on me. No. No. Not
me. Lord, make me disappear. I panicked. Seat. Seat. Gotta find a
seat. I squeezed into the next available pew, while the scolding
continued. "What will it take for you to show proper respect, young
man?" I'm sorry I thought, but could not say. I'm so sorry. The eyes
were mercifully off me now, but as I sank into the pew, I realized I
was involuntarily crying - ashamed, humiliated and crying. I was 11.
Crushed and not wanting the priest to be angry with me, I somehow
summoned the courage to visit him after Mass, to apologize and ask
forgiveness. I entered the sacristy sheepishly and he acknowledged my
concern with a stern gaze and then, smiling, urged me to be on time
from now on. We were good. Now I only hoped and prayed that he
wouldn't rat me out to Dad. It was understood I couldn't share this
story with my parents, particularly my father, whose attitude towards
priests was unquestioned fealty. He was fatherless as a child and the
local priests of his youth were the authority figures of his life.
They were to be revered, respected and unquestioned. It was understood
that a serious criticism of priests was off-limits, the reason I
sought this priest's forgiveness. I didn't really care about the good
Father's pardon; I just wanted my father to be proud of me – to show
him we shared the same clerical respect.
But even at that age I knew this guy had overstepped the line. He may
have felt justified in demanding punctuality for the Lord's spiritual
reverence but he missed his temporal target.
Yes it was a seemingly tiny event, not worthy of a moment's
consideration in a full lifetime, but it was really significant
nevertheless. He'll never know it, but Father
I-Don't-Remember-His-Name unwittingly planted the seed. My days of
joyous wonder and warm spiritual nurturing within the church were
over. I was 11.
"THE" CATHOLIC FAMILY
For years just entering a church triggered feelings of unworthiness
and remorse. I fought it and eventually had enough pleasant,
satisfying moments in churches that I became quite comfortable there,
particularly when my family bonded and we celebrated the important
Catholic rituals together. It was how I learned about community. But I
never felt comfortable in the old St. Brendan's church ever again, so
in 1967 when it was replaced, I felt no nostalgia. Following Vatican
II the Church was anxious to update and appear modern, including new
concepts of architecture – and the archdiocese built a structure that
was designed in the shape of a ship, to commemorate St. Brendan's
voyages. I had an irreverent classmate that dubbed it the Ship of
Fools – but I wasn't casting myself overboard just yet. I had an
obligation and responsibility to get good with God. To pray, worship,
ask God's forgiveness and keep the faith.
Of course, to keep the faith you have to have it to begin with and I
was never sure my faith was strong enough to pass the test. Aware that
failing the test had some pretty dire consequences, I dutifully set
out on a life-long quest: Get good with God.
It seemed to come so easily to all my family. My sister was always
devoted and married a great guy whose faith was a model for all of us.
My brother entered the seminary for a while, and although he decided
the clergy was not for him, it never seemed to cause him to veer for a
second. My cousin made it through the seminary, became a priest and
built an impressive clerical career. His father, my uncle, as you can
imagine, was exceedingly thrilled.
Because of my father's respect, priests and nuns were always over for
dinner and welcomed warmly at our house. For much of my life I didn't
think we were a Catholic family, I thought we were THE Catholic
family. It was understood we were a family of faith – public and
proud. Why was it so hard for me? How come I couldn't measure up? They
never seemed to struggle. Their faith had such a gentle ease about it.
Was I not praying hard enough? It will come, I assured myself. Trust
in Him.
In the sixth grade my parents transferred me from our local parochial
school to a private Catholic school, where my brother attended high
school. On the first day of classes, our teacher, an Irish Christian
Brother, asked the class "How many of you attended Mass this Sunday?"
I looked around and saw about 30% raise their hands. What?!! Now I was
pretty sophisticated in the 6th grade. I knew the whole world wasn't
Catholic, but even all non-Catholics went to church every Sunday,
right? I was stunned.
In high school I went through the obligatory period of rejection. Of
course God was on the list, but I rejected everything - advice,
parental authority, you name it, I was against it. The ages 15-17
should be illegal. During this time my parents were going through a
difficult period which added to my disillusionment. It may have been
highly typical angry teenage angst, but it was a dark uncertain time
for me. Then there were the teachers at my Catholic schools (I
transferred during my junior year) and the disturbing sexual episodes.
No, I was never violated directly. But yes, I was hit on - even
courted, in a way. There were private meetings, intense personal
discussions, questions about my sex life, curiosity about my turn-ons,
etc. Really creepy, uncomfortable sessions that, because they were my
teachers, were unavoidable. And it was not just one guy. There were
several, in both schools. I was boxed in. First, I could never
complain about it because, the clergy were to be respected and trusted
and my complaints would be viewed as just another disappointing
observation from a 16 year old malcontent. Second, the embarrassing
subject of sex; I was just getting to the age of experiencing sexual
feelings and its inherent sinfulness was relentlessly drummed into us–
even the mere thought of it was an occasion of sin to be shunned at
all costs or you're going to get another demerit on God's score card.
I felt like I was being forced to admit my depraved sinfulness in
these humiliating sessions. I still recall one priest inviting me to
his on-campus room and noticing his eyes and his hands actually
shaking in sexual excitement as he quizzed me. I wasn't gay. I was
naïve and had no idea what the hell was going on. I just knew
instinctively that the creep factor was dialed up to 9.
So the events were filed away, hidden in a fast growing, frightening
closet, filled with imaginary sins and shortcomings, all direct
affronts to God's plan for me. I needed forgiveness.
But they were the creeps. Why did I feel guilty? I didn't do anything
but be subjected to some homo-leering.
Despite my well-earned reputation of Conservative fire-brand, actually
some of my thoughts on social issues may surprise you. Among these are
gay rights and full equality – more on that later. The Church is an
understandable magnet for gay men and I am saddened by their closeted
prison. But my point is, to a naïve 16 year old, getting hit on by a
gay authority figure is more than disarming. It was just plain wrong.
And yet for some strange reason I felt it was morally incorrect to get
angry about this. As if I was complicit. I needed to pray for
understanding and forgiveness.
CULTURAL CATHOLIC – ON AUTOMATIC AND SCANDAL
My bout with teenage rejection was abated somewhat as I passed through
high school and college and religion played a decreasing role in my
life. It still weighed heavily on my mind, but my public and secular
life started to take on a more prominent role. At this point and I was
settling into that great American Institution – becoming a Cultural
Catholic. I realized, to my great disappointment that faith is a gift,
a gift that cannot be given or earned. The only way to receive it, I
believed, was through prayer and trust that God would listen and
approve. Maybe that faith would be confirmed in some fashion, as it
seemed to be for my family. Trust in the Lord. Eventually He will show
you the way. Maybe you can no longer trust your teachers or other
authority figures, but you can and must trust in the Lord.
This cultural Catholic thing seemed very European. Religion there is
an ignored backdrop while you go about your life. For many years, I
withheld the sacraments, believing I was simply a sinner not worthy of
receiving them. When I didn't receive communion at my father's
funeral, my cousin became alarmed. However, he was encouraged that I
had enough respect for the sacrament that I didn't receive communion
and violate a basic tenet.
I didn't really attend church at all as an adult. When I was first
married I did, mostly to assure my wife that my religion was still
intact, and I was trying, really trying. Here I was a married adult
who still thought sleeping in on Sunday was a scandalous sin. This was
Catholic Guilt, the insidious source of thousands of jokes at its best
- continuing to infect its host with a subtle, debilitating disease.
1968 - great year to get married, but a really shitty year for
Catholics to get married. Why? Birth control. That wonder of modern
science had just been introduced and was condemned completely by the
church. It forced Catholics the world over to face down Rome and make
a choice. Of course, the Church lost and the Cultural Catholic ranks
grew enormously. The Church, quietly put the issue on the back burner
and although they never backed down, they just stayed quiet about it.
But for Catholics, cultural or not, here was another sin for the
ledger; another opportunity to live a life of Catholic Guilt.
Throughout our lives together – and we'd been dating since high school
– my wife was always the voice of Christian Sanity. She was raised as
a Presbyterian, attended church and Sunday school in her youth, but
stopped going at the age most kids do – out of boredom and
indifference. For Catholics it was mandatory, but our Protestant
brothers and sisters had an option and I was always jealous of that.
When she was in college, a classmate annoyingly kept trying to
"convert" her to the Catholic faith. After a while, the proselytizing
became too much, and the friendship withered, but it left a stain of
slight anti-Catholic feelings in her. When we started to get serious
as a couple, she was concerned about our faith differences. It didn't
mean anything to her, but she was afraid my family, being under the
boot of Rome, would reject her. It was never true. They loved her and
welcomed her into the fold with great affection, but marrying outside
the faith was a much bigger social issue in those days. Throughout our
lives, she attended church with my family on occasion, while never
giving up her allegiance to her childhood church. I would even join
her at Christmas celebrations – they held a beautiful service. She
professed a belief in God and no doubt, was confused and amused at her
husband's family piety. Still she was quiet about her faith,
respectful of mine, and altogether the voice of Christian Sanity. The
world could learn from her model. While regular church attendance
never kicked in, I did, over the years, resume Communion when I did go
To Mass – weddings, funerals other family events. I reasoned that the
sacraments may help with my elusive faith quest. Additionally, this
public display of my faith would impress the Lord and nudge me over to
His approved list. I defended the Church's behavior often in arguments
–with my late father smiling, , egging me on, no doubt. My default
position was they are only human and doing the best they can. For
centuries they have cared for and nurtured us. We owe it to them to
give help and moral support in their hour of need. Some of that
behavior became personal – I won't go into it here – but family was
involved. I reluctantly understood the Church's position on the matter
and was instantly willing to accept their misbehavior. I was a team
player, willing to live my life out riddled with the Guilt, hopeful
that God would show me the way and confirm my faith, while trying to
strike a balance between the normal secular life and the necessary
pursuit of spiritual fulfillment.
For most of my life it weighed on me. I was quiet about it, partially
because I was always fearful – fearful of hell because I have believed
for all of my life that we were born with original sin and must earn
our way out of it by good deeds or strong affirmation of faith or
maybe something else was needed. Who knows? All I know is I have spent
an inordinate amount of time on the subject. I realized religion has
consumed me for my entire life. Should I make the sign of the cross or
cross my fingers?
THE CHURCHBOT GETS A WAKE-UP CALL
The Church's sex abuse scandals have rocked it almost immeasurably. To
be fair, abuses in the NYC school system may be just as plentiful and
not nearly as well covered by the press, but no matter…. OK. That was
me - default-defending them again – an old habit. And it's really
wrong to do it. Oddly, I never saw the hypocrisy. Here I was,
defending this institution instinctively, the way you defend a
family's honor in the Sopranos or something, the black sheep fighting
for the fold. Maybe that was my way of seeking acceptance. Maybe it
was my way of saying I knew I wasn't included in my family's circle of
faith, but I've got you're your back from here on the outside. At
least God would understand what I was trying to achieve and maybe give
me a reward by letting me into the club.
The breadth of the scandal was overwhelming. What happened to me in
high school wasn't criminal, but it was a disturbing violation
nevertheless. I should have said or done something but I didn't. I had
dinner with a classmate recently who told me that one of the priests I
talked about earlier who was trying to engage me was later caught and
tossed out. Among his papers were letters to fellow pedophiles
bragging about what good fortune he had being in a school setting - a
playground filled with candy. If I had said something then maybe all
of that would have been avoided. Who knows?
The abuse is horrible. The settlements are infuriating, but I guess
legally necessary. However when the Vatican shielded Cardinal Law from
the American legal system, a morally corrupt system was exposed. I
understood why the Vatican did it, but hated them for it. It was
misplaced mercy, and disgusting. How could the church be so uncaring
towards the scandal visited on its own parishioners?
And then, Ireland -the abuse that lasted for decades. I watched a 60
Minutes report, in which Dublin's Archbishop Martin was seen at an
unprecedented service of atonement prostrated on the altar washing the
feet of victims, as an act of humility, medieval symbolism as a
substitute for genuine contriteness. It struck me as a manipulative
"play victim" move. The Vatican's response was criticized as not
sufficiently satisfactory – but I don't know what kind of a response
could be acceptable. It was mind-numbing, on the scale of the German
atrocities in WWII. But then, I soberly realized it was entirely
plausible. My experiences were direct antecedents; the harboring of
pedophiles by the institution, the arrogance of Father" I
Don't-Remember-His-Name," this misplaced mercy. All of it. This was
beyond corrupt. This was systematic criminal behavior.
Archbishop Martin recently pleaded with lapsed Catholics to leave the
church. Criticism itself was too much of a scandal and a distraction
from the genuine reformation he was seeking from the Vatican. , Leave
us alone, in effect, because we are not equipped to deal with the
criticism from within.
While it was food for thought, I had never heard a priest urge a
congregant to get out. Still I understood and had my defensive gear
on. Why was I not able to objectively look at this as another corrupt
institution that lost its way? How could I be so understanding? If I
even told a risqué joke to a woman at work, I wouldn't be moved to
another department. I would be out on my ass. Why does the Church get
dispensation? Again, the most important question; why do I judge the
Church differently than any other institution? Why, in the name of all
that is holy do they get a pass for criminal disgusting behavior?
Because of fear.
The Church was given absolute moral authority over my soul. It has
exercised that authority as a power tool to control my life. I ceded
that power because I trusted them to save me.
Uh Oh.
EXTERNALIZED ADMISSIONS
It's quite strange to think of the Church as immoral. It is supposed
to be the arbiter of these matters, right? But, like any other earthly
institutions, it has its faults. Take annulments, for example. The
Church's stance on remarriage after divorce is pretty straightforward
and clear. But if there are "impediments," you mercifully get a
mulligan. After a while, the mulligans become more lenient, and the
next thing you know, Martin Luther is working on his carpentry skills.
I'll spare you the plenary indulgence history and the "Treasury of
Merit" discussion. Let's just say, it was the carbon credits of its
day, steeped in wink and nod theology. Not a proud moment and morally
suspect at least. It's clear that during history the Church's survival
and health was at times considerably more important than the spiritual
needs of its members.
Every day the news has a story of uncovered corruption and "crony
capitalism." The political parties have been reduced to abandoning
principles and just mistrusting and yelling at each other. Bernie
Madoff? Shrugged shoulders. Un-merited bail-outs? Ho hum. Ever watch
Survivor? The object is to win the million bucks and not get voted off
the island. The contestant who manipulates alliances, lies stealthily
and back-stabs the most quietly gets the reward. Immorality as Life
Goal. It's all so bewildering to me and easy to see how the modern
Church gets caught up in the Zeitgeist.
I couldn't abide by this anymore. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my
Church. It didn't remotely resemble the idealistic presence of my
youth. In fact, it now seemed wicked and evil. I silently gave up. I
couldn't defend them anymore, but was too frightened to admit it.
Rather than getting angry at the source, I resented their critics and
bundled my anger at them. The Catholic bashers were attacking my
family and I wouldn't let them get away with it. But really I was
torn, disgusted and lost.
One night, while watching some critical Church report on TV at dinner,
I involuntarily blurted out, "That's it. I'm done." Out loud. I'd
thought it before, but never dared to verbalize it. I startled myself.
Oh my God, I said that out loud. Was I serious? Was I actually
considering leaving the Holy Roman Catholic Church, the church of my
youth, the bedrock of my entire history because I felt they had
embarrassed themselves and their faithful by immoral, indefensible
actions? Yes.
It was past time for me to consider another way, another path -
another church. These guys were nuts.
COLUMN "B" CHOICES AND SALVATION
OK. Don't make any rash decisions in anger. It is your eternal life
we're talking about here after all. Do some research, give it some
thought. Pray. The thought of being associated with this organization
seemed so wrong. I never would have believed I could consider another
home, but now I knew I couldn't stay. This was not my church any
longer. Had I changed so much? Or had they. It was out of whack.
The first consideration was, of course, the Episcopalian Church –
Catholic-lite. The traditions and services were so similar that it's
easy for lapsed Catholics to slip right in; a smart, well-ordered
group - a little snooty - but none of that ethnic riff-raff. That's
how they sounded to me. Even the Irish have worked their way up to its
elderdom. Sure the saints get demoted and Mother Mary is moved to the
also-starring list, but all in all, a much easier road to hoe.
But, for the first time in my life, I realized I had other options
What about the others? Catholics have always held themselves to be the
One and everyone else just a farm team. As a result, I never made any
serious attempt to delineate the differences between Methodists,
Lutherans, or Presbyterians. They were all triple A ball to me, column
"B.". Baptists, and other fundamentalist sects like Church of God,
seemed bat-shit to me and of course, the fact that they hate and
mistrust Catholics doesn't help - see Dad? A good soldier. At least,
Catholics had the good sense to understand metaphor and poetry. The
literalists claimed every word was unerringly true. Even on the
subject of Evolution and Creationism, Catholics reject pure
Creationism and support for Darwin, with some modifications.
I realized if I was going to be serious about this – and it was as
serious as a heart attack – I was going to have to dig in and
research, an enterprise frowned upon throughout history. We were
taught from an early age to stay away from occasions of sin and be
tempted by apostasy, blasphemy, and heresy. Don't look behind the
curtain shouted the Wizard of Oz. Hell, they burned folks at the stake
for this sort of thing.
I never read the Bible cover to cover. Sections-yes. Passages-yes. But
never cover to cover, like Fundamentalists do. Quoting scripture
always seemed suspect to me, anyhow. I knew how newspapers and pundits
quoted things out of context to further their agenda and I felt that
was what Baptists did. Reading the Bible is hard work. Biblical
scholars have, over the centuries, fought over interpretations;
examined minute details, even revised and edited the text. It is a
Bronze and Iron Age set of books and writings transcribed by men
trying to hand down stories and myths. We've all played telephone. A
story is whispered to a person who repeats it to the next person in
line and so on. The last person repeats the story aloud, and everyone
has a great laugh at how it has been mangled in the process. Imagine a
set of stories handed down for centuries, by folks with different
skills and agendas. Just try to get through Genesis without doubling
over like the folks playing telephone: contradictions, errors, talking
snakes, knowledge trees. Metaphors maybe but, come on... It is a
fascinating, important work of art – a worthy subject of study. But
the unerring word of God? Even the New Testament, the Christian
section is filled with contradictions and strange utterances.
I didn't have the patience or the interest to take on the Bible in
detail, but I still wanted to know how this book had glued the
religious for all these years. This being the age of Google, I no
longer had to seek out libraries and rummage through card files for
answers. I didn't even have to read. Welcome to YouTube. Dozens of
lectures, polemics, reviews, criticisms of the Bible, Christianity,
Islam and religion in general – literally a life-time of study right
there for the taking. Never talk about sports or politics or religion.
This age-old maxim is particularly true on YouTube. You look for
insight but all you get is nasty argument. And quickly you learn that
the most prevalent view of religiosity in America is indifference, but
regionally and politically evangelicals are passionate to witness to
anyone, particularly Jehovah's Witness and Mormons. Invariably,
atheists would return fire, sometimes mocking, sometimes flailing
about in frustration, filled with certainty and scorn.
No Christian alternative seemed particularly useful to me, nothing
that I could embrace and hold as my path to salvation. I wasn't
interested in joining the right church. I've never been a joiner. No
clubs, fraternities, nothing. The only membership card I hold is from
a fraternal organization that my father wanted me to join. He worked
hard to get me in and to respect him, I still am a nominal member.
Choosing a new church seemed like such a Protestant thing to do. We
Catholics never had to go up and down the aisles choosing and
selecting. We just went in, got what we wanted and left. This
non-denominational choice seemed like one of those no-label store
brands – a characterless white can that was stuck in the back of the
pantry because you didn't want anyone you know that you were so cheap
- hardly an inspiring pathway to God.
It was doubtful my attendance record would improve anyway,
particularly if I didn't have family to share the experience with.
However my goal was the same as always. I was only interested in
getting good with God. That meant I had to look beyond Christianity.
Beyond the institutions that didn't really seem to be honoring Jesus,
anyhow. Like Mary, in many churches he seemed to have an also-starring
role. I was unsure of this but maybe they were right. To achieve my
faith maybe I had to bypass the Son, and deal directly with the Old
Man.
I had brushed past Buddhism, Hinduism and other Eastern disciplines as
only a curiosity. Culturally so different, they were hard to identify
with and while elements are of course worthy, others are just too
foreign and forbidding. Islam seemed more repressive and backward than
some (most?) of Christianity and way too bellicose. New Age
spirituality just seemed false and self-indulgent. Honestly, most of
the folks who claim to be "spiritual, not religious" were just soft
core agnostics to me. The thought of worshipping Gaia just makes me
giggle. Wicca? Witches? Sorry. Pass. Way too much work and my wife
hates clutter anyhow. Maybe just simple Deism- barebones philosophy,
but if God just created the world and then got out of the way, where
the hell would I find him? I couldn't find him as a Christian and he
was supposedly there. The Deism desert was just too vast.
None of these paths worked for my goal. I had to get good with God and
religion was getting in the way.
Why was this so hard? Why after a lifetime of asking, indeed pleading
to be granted membership into the club was I still being ignored? How
could the faithful be so certain? Where was I falling short? More good
deeds? More pronouncements of faith? How could He be so cruel? Why
would He allow my Church to be destroyed and take away my lifelong
pathway? Why after all this effort could I find no peace? Was it
really an all-loving God's will to tease and torture His flock for
their whole lives? He demands recognition in the First Commandment,
yet ignores us when it is given. Was He really as brutal, selfish and
demanding as He was portrayed in the Bible? Why did He offer us
sacraments to help guide us to the path when, despite all the
reverence and trust we held in them, we were ignored? How could He do
this to us?
The answer is He couldn't and didn't, because of simplicity itself:
god.is.imaginary.
Uh Oh.
THE MOMENT
It was like thunderbolt - the most terrifying, fearful and
exhilarating moment of my life. At long last, after a lifetime of
struggle, pain and uncertainty, it made sense. It was a moment of
clarity like no other. I had been duped so cruelly that for my entire
life I believed in Santa Claus. Now I knew the truth; what was behind
all those disappointments, failings and why worshipful spiritual
satisfaction was unachievable. Why the elusive circle of faith was
impossible to penetrate. It was all a scam - a heartless wicked
immoral scam perpetrated by a series of foul dicks that for centuries
have interpreted and re-interpreted a series of Bronze and Iron Age
myths to perpetuate their power and influence – a continuum of crap.
Centuries of evil. Millions of lives wasted in wars fought over
made-up fairy tales. Advances in science and virtually all other
disciplines have been able to expose much of this but the mythology
continues – a blend of fables, blind wishes and ignorant trusting
communities just waiting to be exploited. As I say these things, my
heart hurts because it sounds so harsh and hateful. I don't want to
sound resentful about being duped and l believe the examination of
religion and its impact on society is fascinating and extremely
useful. It's not all bad, but after all the poison it has spread,
religion is hardly benign. It breaks my heart, but we've all been had.
So here I sit - alone, with the realization that I am a non-believer –
an atheist. And I HATE atheists because they are smug, arrogant
(mostly) leftists hell-bent on turning the government over to PETA.
And here I sit - a right-leaning atheist at that - one of the most
reviled subsets of the most reviled group in America. And I don't even
have God to turn to for support.
I guess technically, I'm an agnostic in the sense that I don't KNOW
that God doesn't exist. But that is true of all atheists. There's no
such thing as Gnostic atheist – the lack of knowledge makes the term
impossible – so it is a distinction without a difference. Still, the
term seems so harsh and bitter. It carries a lot of baggage, whereas,
"non-believer", "not religious", even "agnostic" sounds less
threatening and implies to the religious that there is still hope.
There is no getting around it, though. It is a rejection of religion,
which will be offensive and threatening to much of the world. I am
decidedly not anti-theist and believe strongly that every person
should seek his own path, as I did mine. It is not my place or will to
interfere with this most important process for anyone. Religious or
not, we all deserve the maximal amount of happiness allowed and the
pathway to that goal should be unimpeded.
NOW WHAT AND WORLDVIEWS
My former church has arrogantly tossed away its moral authority, yet
continues to try to perpetuate superstitions in spite of provable
scientific advances. This is not like the infamous, just-forgiven
Galileo incident so misunderstood; it is things like condoms and In
vitro fertilization, even among married couples (!). So, yes, despite
my father's admonitions I must criticize the Church for their failings
in the clearly immoral act of allowing disease to flourish and
preventing couples to propagate. I'm confident the God I was taught to
believe in would approve of my objections.
So what does this really mean? What does a non-Christian me think like
now. How will this change me? Guidelines are suddenly gone and it is
quite a revelation for the newly deconverted. EVERYTHING has to be
reexamined. For a Catholic this means a total worldview revision – a
dizzying array of suppositions that go by the board. Bedrock beliefs
like the existence of the soul, heaven, hell, the afterlife, sin,
prayer, purgatory, grace, the trinity, virgin births, talking snakes,
the supernatural , magical transubstantiation, the saints, all
divinities, past and present – it goes on and on and as each
superstition is exposed, it is frightening, disorienting and oddly,
comforting at the same time.
After a lifetime of uncertainty and anguish, I no longer have to be
concerned about being saved. There's nothing to be saved from. This
life here, now, is perfect - all you'll ever need and all you're ever
going to get. You can live your entire life with a sense of awe and
wonder and love and treasure every moment without fear of supernatural
retribution. A life unburdened by penalties, punishments and suppliant
reward from a mysterious, vengeful myth. Maybe that's my gift. But I
paid quite a price.
Ironically, atheism frees you to live a moral life, one where good
deeds are performed for their own sake, not as acts designed to
selfishly spare you from God's wrath. Morals preceded the Bible
anyhow. Theists just appropriated it from the ancients and pretended
they were the authors.
The altered worldview doesn't just eliminate superstitions. It forces
you to look at long held precepts differently, as well.
I touched on gay rights earlier. Some Christians are hate-filled and
fearful of gays, particularly the Evangelicals who captured the
Republican Party, one of many reasons why I have lost respect for the
GOP. (Don't worry. Democrats still lead the pack in wackiness.) I
don't believe the government or the church has any role in private
marriages or any domestic arrangements for that matter, other than
recognizing civil unions. Leave the gays alone and let them live and
love. If they want to get married what difference does it really make
to your life? My deconversion has made me suspect and mistrustful of
all supposed authority, although I have always supported gay rights.
Get out of our bedrooms and medicine cabinets and closets and stick to
your knitting like protecting the border and cleaning up the highway.
The most dramatic social issue I've altered my view on, without
question, is abortion where I've flipped 180°. When I decided to
reconsider things with as honest and clean a slate as possible I
reluctantly approached this one because it is so emotional and
fundamental. I may write about it in detail some time, but the bottom
line is I now support the pro-choice position enthusiastically. I
still believe late- term abortions are morally reprehensible and
recent articles about ethicists supporting the killing of newborns
because they are "morally irrelevant" is dangerous and sick, but I was
amazed to learn that almost a ¼ of U.S. pregnancies end in abortions.
I do make a distinction between a woman's right to choose and the
viability restrictions resulting in the right to life of the infant, a
point frequently missed in articles and arguments. Often Pro-choice
advocates seek unrestricted rights and that is selfish and
unrealistic. Neonatal medicine is developing an artificial placenta
that would make ten week old embryos "viable" which shows how
important it is to allow science to operate unhampered. There's more,
but this represents a major breakthrough for me, an instance of
unhindered inquiry that I didn't think I was capable of.
In school we learned of Greek and Roman mythology and they seemed to
have a different god for all of life's contingencies. To a 20th
century schoolchild it seemed so silly - yet on Sunday we were
worshipping their one remaining god and it seemed so rational. I don't
hate God nor am I angry at him despite, in many ways, a wasted life.
He's imaginary to me – an interesting worthy philosophical concept,
but nothing more.
FAMILY
Family has always been important to me. We don't always get along but
we're better than most. As you can tell, I've always considered myself
an outcast – the black sheep if you will and oddly, I always felt a
slight discomfort with my immediate family because of this. My parents
were complex people with complex histories and in many ways unsuited
to raise a family. But we were loved, cared for and given every
opportunity imaginable. They made sacrifices, demanded little and
generally did the best job they knew. Their complexities however
spilled over into our lives in different ways and I believe caused
unintended damage in all of us. I definitely know I was damaged, but I
loved them.
We all want love and acceptance and I've been motivated my entire life
to having that with my family, but as I explained I always felt
excluded from the circle and now, with this revelation my long sought
goal is probably gone forever. Some time ago, my sister inquired about
my "spiritual health." "I'm fine," I answered, an honest appraisal at
the time, because I was sincerely making the effort to connect. And I
was becoming comfortable that God, being fair and forgiving would look
out for me. Now I look back at that and realize it was silly. I can't
do it. I can't join in the circle. True faith is a gift of sorts – but
it is an unreasonable notion that can only be imagined. I sought it
for so long without realizing it was an illusion. But its power has
motivated all mankind and inspired the daring to seek evidence, so
maybe that's the gift after all. It's tantalizing promise forces us to
seek the truth. The "God of the gaps" is so much easier but
relentlessly incomplete.
I love my family and always want the best for all of us. I could
continue the pretense – life would definitely be easier and a little
hypocrisy is the coin of the realm nowadays. But that ultimately would
not be fair to anyone. After a lifetime of lies and delusions, I need
to be honest with myself at the least. I have great fear that my
family is going to abandon me. I hope not and will be heartbroken if
it happens, but I literally have no choice.
Accepting my atheism, after all these years as a Catholic Christian is
a challenging process and very disconcerting, but so many of life's
mysteries are finally being solved and so many of my fears and
anxieties are dissipating. I can't say I had a pure Damascus
experience, my curiosity still forces me to wonder but
non-supernatural answers while more difficult, are much more
satisfying. Becoming atheist is easy. Becoming ex-Catholic is really
hard. Admitting it to yourself and "coming out," really, REALLY hard.
It may be that some of my family will not be surprised by this
admission; I'm guessing others, no doubt, will be shocked and
disappointed. It's a very strange experience to hear myself saying and
thinking things that I never would have dreamed seriously considering
a just short time ago.
Trust me, a lot of jokes have been made about Catholic guilt over the
years -- but to me they're not funny anymore. They are a grim reminder
of a life wasted in pointless prayer and penance for sins that never
existed -a life that was boldly abused by a delusional authority. If
an atheist had mocked me as a Christian a short time ago; I would have
punched out in defense. Now I realize my folly and his frustration. My
viewpoint has been altered and I am adjusting to it, desperately
trying to sidestep anger.
To my family: I dread the hurt and pain I may cause and want everyone
to know my love for you is greater now that you have my undivided
attention. I hope my failure as a Christian will not disappoint you.
Please understand.
LATE FOR CHURCH
Late for church. And I lived just across the street. Following a few
other tardy parishioners up the steps to St. Brendan's, I quickened my
pace, but only in hopes they would hold the door for me. Too late.
They were already in. I pulled the door open and quickly moved through
the vestibule glancing up at the pulpit where Father
I-Don't-Remember-His-Name glared back at me as I moved down the aisle
searching for a seat.
"Here's another one," he barked, voice reverberating powerfully as it
only can inside a cavernous building. "Another insolent person who
shows his disrespect to God by wandering in here at whatever time he
chooses." Heads turned and now dozens of eyes were on me. No. No. Not
me. Lord, make me disappear. I panicked. Seat. Seat. Gotta find a
seat. I squeezed into the next available pew, while the scolding
continued. "What will it take for you to show proper respect, young
man?" I'm sorry I thought, but could not say. I'm so sorry. The eyes
were mercifully off me now, but as I sank into the pew, I realized I
was involuntarily crying - ashamed, humiliated and crying. I was 11.
Crushed and not wanting the priest to be angry with me, I somehow
summoned the courage to visit him after Mass, to apologize and ask
forgiveness. I entered the sacristy sheepishly and he acknowledged my
concern with a stern gaze and then, smiling, urged me to be on time
from now on. We were good. Now I only hoped and prayed that he
wouldn't rat me out to Dad. It was understood I couldn't share this
story with my parents, particularly my father, whose attitude towards
priests was unquestioned fealty. He was fatherless as a child and the
local priests of his youth were the authority figures of his life.
They were to be revered, respected and unquestioned. It was understood
that a serious criticism of priests was off-limits, the reason I
sought this priest's forgiveness. I didn't really care about the good
Father's pardon; I just wanted my father to be proud of me – to show
him we shared the same clerical respect.
But even at that age I knew this guy had overstepped the line. He may
have felt justified in demanding punctuality for the Lord's spiritual
reverence but he missed his temporal target.
Yes it was a seemingly tiny event, not worthy of a moment's
consideration in a full lifetime, but it was really significant
nevertheless. He'll never know it, but Father
I-Don't-Remember-His-Name unwittingly planted the seed. My days of
joyous wonder and warm spiritual nurturing within the church were
over. I was 11.
"THE" CATHOLIC FAMILY
For years just entering a church triggered feelings of unworthiness
and remorse. I fought it and eventually had enough pleasant,
satisfying moments in churches that I became quite comfortable there,
particularly when my family bonded and we celebrated the important
Catholic rituals together. It was how I learned about community. But I
never felt comfortable in the old St. Brendan's church ever again, so
in 1967 when it was replaced, I felt no nostalgia. Following Vatican
II the Church was anxious to update and appear modern, including new
concepts of architecture – and the archdiocese built a structure that
was designed in the shape of a ship, to commemorate St. Brendan's
voyages. I had an irreverent classmate that dubbed it the Ship of
Fools – but I wasn't casting myself overboard just yet. I had an
obligation and responsibility to get good with God. To pray, worship,
ask God's forgiveness and keep the faith.
Of course, to keep the faith you have to have it to begin with and I
was never sure my faith was strong enough to pass the test. Aware that
failing the test had some pretty dire consequences, I dutifully set
out on a life-long quest: Get good with God.
It seemed to come so easily to all my family. My sister was always
devoted and married a great guy whose faith was a model for all of us.
My brother entered the seminary for a while, and although he decided
the clergy was not for him, it never seemed to cause him to veer for a
second. My cousin made it through the seminary, became a priest and
built an impressive clerical career. His father, my uncle, as you can
imagine, was exceedingly thrilled.
Because of my father's respect, priests and nuns were always over for
dinner and welcomed warmly at our house. For much of my life I didn't
think we were a Catholic family, I thought we were THE Catholic
family. It was understood we were a family of faith – public and
proud. Why was it so hard for me? How come I couldn't measure up? They
never seemed to struggle. Their faith had such a gentle ease about it.
Was I not praying hard enough? It will come, I assured myself. Trust
in Him.
In the sixth grade my parents transferred me from our local parochial
school to a private Catholic school, where my brother attended high
school. On the first day of classes, our teacher, an Irish Christian
Brother, asked the class "How many of you attended Mass this Sunday?"
I looked around and saw about 30% raise their hands. What?!! Now I was
pretty sophisticated in the 6th grade. I knew the whole world wasn't
Catholic, but even all non-Catholics went to church every Sunday,
right? I was stunned.
In high school I went through the obligatory period of rejection. Of
course God was on the list, but I rejected everything - advice,
parental authority, you name it, I was against it. The ages 15-17
should be illegal. During this time my parents were going through a
difficult period which added to my disillusionment. It may have been
highly typical angry teenage angst, but it was a dark uncertain time
for me. Then there were the teachers at my Catholic schools (I
transferred during my junior year) and the disturbing sexual episodes.
No, I was never violated directly. But yes, I was hit on - even
courted, in a way. There were private meetings, intense personal
discussions, questions about my sex life, curiosity about my turn-ons,
etc. Really creepy, uncomfortable sessions that, because they were my
teachers, were unavoidable. And it was not just one guy. There were
several, in both schools. I was boxed in. First, I could never
complain about it because, the clergy were to be respected and trusted
and my complaints would be viewed as just another disappointing
observation from a 16 year old malcontent. Second, the embarrassing
subject of sex; I was just getting to the age of experiencing sexual
feelings and its inherent sinfulness was relentlessly drummed into us–
even the mere thought of it was an occasion of sin to be shunned at
all costs or you're going to get another demerit on God's score card.
I felt like I was being forced to admit my depraved sinfulness in
these humiliating sessions. I still recall one priest inviting me to
his on-campus room and noticing his eyes and his hands actually
shaking in sexual excitement as he quizzed me. I wasn't gay. I was
naïve and had no idea what the hell was going on. I just knew
instinctively that the creep factor was dialed up to 9.
So the events were filed away, hidden in a fast growing, frightening
closet, filled with imaginary sins and shortcomings, all direct
affronts to God's plan for me. I needed forgiveness.
But they were the creeps. Why did I feel guilty? I didn't do anything
but be subjected to some homo-leering.
Despite my well-earned reputation of Conservative fire-brand, actually
some of my thoughts on social issues may surprise you. Among these are
gay rights and full equality – more on that later. The Church is an
understandable magnet for gay men and I am saddened by their closeted
prison. But my point is, to a naïve 16 year old, getting hit on by a
gay authority figure is more than disarming. It was just plain wrong.
And yet for some strange reason I felt it was morally incorrect to get
angry about this. As if I was complicit. I needed to pray for
understanding and forgiveness.
CULTURAL CATHOLIC – ON AUTOMATIC AND SCANDAL
My bout with teenage rejection was abated somewhat as I passed through
high school and college and religion played a decreasing role in my
life. It still weighed heavily on my mind, but my public and secular
life started to take on a more prominent role. At this point and I was
settling into that great American Institution – becoming a Cultural
Catholic. I realized, to my great disappointment that faith is a gift,
a gift that cannot be given or earned. The only way to receive it, I
believed, was through prayer and trust that God would listen and
approve. Maybe that faith would be confirmed in some fashion, as it
seemed to be for my family. Trust in the Lord. Eventually He will show
you the way. Maybe you can no longer trust your teachers or other
authority figures, but you can and must trust in the Lord.
This cultural Catholic thing seemed very European. Religion there is
an ignored backdrop while you go about your life. For many years, I
withheld the sacraments, believing I was simply a sinner not worthy of
receiving them. When I didn't receive communion at my father's
funeral, my cousin became alarmed. However, he was encouraged that I
had enough respect for the sacrament that I didn't receive communion
and violate a basic tenet.
I didn't really attend church at all as an adult. When I was first
married I did, mostly to assure my wife that my religion was still
intact, and I was trying, really trying. Here I was a married adult
who still thought sleeping in on Sunday was a scandalous sin. This was
Catholic Guilt, the insidious source of thousands of jokes at its best
- continuing to infect its host with a subtle, debilitating disease.
1968 - great year to get married, but a really shitty year for
Catholics to get married. Why? Birth control. That wonder of modern
science had just been introduced and was condemned completely by the
church. It forced Catholics the world over to face down Rome and make
a choice. Of course, the Church lost and the Cultural Catholic ranks
grew enormously. The Church, quietly put the issue on the back burner
and although they never backed down, they just stayed quiet about it.
But for Catholics, cultural or not, here was another sin for the
ledger; another opportunity to live a life of Catholic Guilt.
Throughout our lives together – and we'd been dating since high school
– my wife was always the voice of Christian Sanity. She was raised as
a Presbyterian, attended church and Sunday school in her youth, but
stopped going at the age most kids do – out of boredom and
indifference. For Catholics it was mandatory, but our Protestant
brothers and sisters had an option and I was always jealous of that.
When she was in college, a classmate annoyingly kept trying to
"convert" her to the Catholic faith. After a while, the proselytizing
became too much, and the friendship withered, but it left a stain of
slight anti-Catholic feelings in her. When we started to get serious
as a couple, she was concerned about our faith differences. It didn't
mean anything to her, but she was afraid my family, being under the
boot of Rome, would reject her. It was never true. They loved her and
welcomed her into the fold with great affection, but marrying outside
the faith was a much bigger social issue in those days. Throughout our
lives, she attended church with my family on occasion, while never
giving up her allegiance to her childhood church. I would even join
her at Christmas celebrations – they held a beautiful service. She
professed a belief in God and no doubt, was confused and amused at her
husband's family piety. Still she was quiet about her faith,
respectful of mine, and altogether the voice of Christian Sanity. The
world could learn from her model. While regular church attendance
never kicked in, I did, over the years, resume Communion when I did go
To Mass – weddings, funerals other family events. I reasoned that the
sacraments may help with my elusive faith quest. Additionally, this
public display of my faith would impress the Lord and nudge me over to
His approved list. I defended the Church's behavior often in arguments
–with my late father smiling, , egging me on, no doubt. My default
position was they are only human and doing the best they can. For
centuries they have cared for and nurtured us. We owe it to them to
give help and moral support in their hour of need. Some of that
behavior became personal – I won't go into it here – but family was
involved. I reluctantly understood the Church's position on the matter
and was instantly willing to accept their misbehavior. I was a team
player, willing to live my life out riddled with the Guilt, hopeful
that God would show me the way and confirm my faith, while trying to
strike a balance between the normal secular life and the necessary
pursuit of spiritual fulfillment.
For most of my life it weighed on me. I was quiet about it, partially
because I was always fearful – fearful of hell because I have believed
for all of my life that we were born with original sin and must earn
our way out of it by good deeds or strong affirmation of faith or
maybe something else was needed. Who knows? All I know is I have spent
an inordinate amount of time on the subject. I realized religion has
consumed me for my entire life. Should I make the sign of the cross or
cross my fingers?
THE CHURCHBOT GETS A WAKE-UP CALL
The Church's sex abuse scandals have rocked it almost immeasurably. To
be fair, abuses in the NYC school system may be just as plentiful and
not nearly as well covered by the press, but no matter…. OK. That was
me - default-defending them again – an old habit. And it's really
wrong to do it. Oddly, I never saw the hypocrisy. Here I was,
defending this institution instinctively, the way you defend a
family's honor in the Sopranos or something, the black sheep fighting
for the fold. Maybe that was my way of seeking acceptance. Maybe it
was my way of saying I knew I wasn't included in my family's circle of
faith, but I've got you're your back from here on the outside. At
least God would understand what I was trying to achieve and maybe give
me a reward by letting me into the club.
The breadth of the scandal was overwhelming. What happened to me in
high school wasn't criminal, but it was a disturbing violation
nevertheless. I should have said or done something but I didn't. I had
dinner with a classmate recently who told me that one of the priests I
talked about earlier who was trying to engage me was later caught and
tossed out. Among his papers were letters to fellow pedophiles
bragging about what good fortune he had being in a school setting - a
playground filled with candy. If I had said something then maybe all
of that would have been avoided. Who knows?
The abuse is horrible. The settlements are infuriating, but I guess
legally necessary. However when the Vatican shielded Cardinal Law from
the American legal system, a morally corrupt system was exposed. I
understood why the Vatican did it, but hated them for it. It was
misplaced mercy, and disgusting. How could the church be so uncaring
towards the scandal visited on its own parishioners?
And then, Ireland -the abuse that lasted for decades. I watched a 60
Minutes report, in which Dublin's Archbishop Martin was seen at an
unprecedented service of atonement prostrated on the altar washing the
feet of victims, as an act of humility, medieval symbolism as a
substitute for genuine contriteness. It struck me as a manipulative
"play victim" move. The Vatican's response was criticized as not
sufficiently satisfactory – but I don't know what kind of a response
could be acceptable. It was mind-numbing, on the scale of the German
atrocities in WWII. But then, I soberly realized it was entirely
plausible. My experiences were direct antecedents; the harboring of
pedophiles by the institution, the arrogance of Father" I
Don't-Remember-His-Name," this misplaced mercy. All of it. This was
beyond corrupt. This was systematic criminal behavior.
Archbishop Martin recently pleaded with lapsed Catholics to leave the
church. Criticism itself was too much of a scandal and a distraction
from the genuine reformation he was seeking from the Vatican. , Leave
us alone, in effect, because we are not equipped to deal with the
criticism from within.
While it was food for thought, I had never heard a priest urge a
congregant to get out. Still I understood and had my defensive gear
on. Why was I not able to objectively look at this as another corrupt
institution that lost its way? How could I be so understanding? If I
even told a risqué joke to a woman at work, I wouldn't be moved to
another department. I would be out on my ass. Why does the Church get
dispensation? Again, the most important question; why do I judge the
Church differently than any other institution? Why, in the name of all
that is holy do they get a pass for criminal disgusting behavior?
Because of fear.
The Church was given absolute moral authority over my soul. It has
exercised that authority as a power tool to control my life. I ceded
that power because I trusted them to save me.
Uh Oh.
EXTERNALIZED ADMISSIONS
It's quite strange to think of the Church as immoral. It is supposed
to be the arbiter of these matters, right? But, like any other earthly
institutions, it has its faults. Take annulments, for example. The
Church's stance on remarriage after divorce is pretty straightforward
and clear. But if there are "impediments," you mercifully get a
mulligan. After a while, the mulligans become more lenient, and the
next thing you know, Martin Luther is working on his carpentry skills.
I'll spare you the plenary indulgence history and the "Treasury of
Merit" discussion. Let's just say, it was the carbon credits of its
day, steeped in wink and nod theology. Not a proud moment and morally
suspect at least. It's clear that during history the Church's survival
and health was at times considerably more important than the spiritual
needs of its members.
Every day the news has a story of uncovered corruption and "crony
capitalism." The political parties have been reduced to abandoning
principles and just mistrusting and yelling at each other. Bernie
Madoff? Shrugged shoulders. Un-merited bail-outs? Ho hum. Ever watch
Survivor? The object is to win the million bucks and not get voted off
the island. The contestant who manipulates alliances, lies stealthily
and back-stabs the most quietly gets the reward. Immorality as Life
Goal. It's all so bewildering to me and easy to see how the modern
Church gets caught up in the Zeitgeist.
I couldn't abide by this anymore. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my
Church. It didn't remotely resemble the idealistic presence of my
youth. In fact, it now seemed wicked and evil. I silently gave up. I
couldn't defend them anymore, but was too frightened to admit it.
Rather than getting angry at the source, I resented their critics and
bundled my anger at them. The Catholic bashers were attacking my
family and I wouldn't let them get away with it. But really I was
torn, disgusted and lost.
One night, while watching some critical Church report on TV at dinner,
I involuntarily blurted out, "That's it. I'm done." Out loud. I'd
thought it before, but never dared to verbalize it. I startled myself.
Oh my God, I said that out loud. Was I serious? Was I actually
considering leaving the Holy Roman Catholic Church, the church of my
youth, the bedrock of my entire history because I felt they had
embarrassed themselves and their faithful by immoral, indefensible
actions? Yes.
It was past time for me to consider another way, another path -
another church. These guys were nuts.
COLUMN "B" CHOICES AND SALVATION
OK. Don't make any rash decisions in anger. It is your eternal life
we're talking about here after all. Do some research, give it some
thought. Pray. The thought of being associated with this organization
seemed so wrong. I never would have believed I could consider another
home, but now I knew I couldn't stay. This was not my church any
longer. Had I changed so much? Or had they. It was out of whack.
The first consideration was, of course, the Episcopalian Church –
Catholic-lite. The traditions and services were so similar that it's
easy for lapsed Catholics to slip right in; a smart, well-ordered
group - a little snooty - but none of that ethnic riff-raff. That's
how they sounded to me. Even the Irish have worked their way up to its
elderdom. Sure the saints get demoted and Mother Mary is moved to the
also-starring list, but all in all, a much easier road to hoe.
But, for the first time in my life, I realized I had other options
What about the others? Catholics have always held themselves to be the
One and everyone else just a farm team. As a result, I never made any
serious attempt to delineate the differences between Methodists,
Lutherans, or Presbyterians. They were all triple A ball to me, column
"B.". Baptists, and other fundamentalist sects like Church of God,
seemed bat-shit to me and of course, the fact that they hate and
mistrust Catholics doesn't help - see Dad? A good soldier. At least,
Catholics had the good sense to understand metaphor and poetry. The
literalists claimed every word was unerringly true. Even on the
subject of Evolution and Creationism, Catholics reject pure
Creationism and support for Darwin, with some modifications.
I realized if I was going to be serious about this – and it was as
serious as a heart attack – I was going to have to dig in and
research, an enterprise frowned upon throughout history. We were
taught from an early age to stay away from occasions of sin and be
tempted by apostasy, blasphemy, and heresy. Don't look behind the
curtain shouted the Wizard of Oz. Hell, they burned folks at the stake
for this sort of thing.
I never read the Bible cover to cover. Sections-yes. Passages-yes. But
never cover to cover, like Fundamentalists do. Quoting scripture
always seemed suspect to me, anyhow. I knew how newspapers and pundits
quoted things out of context to further their agenda and I felt that
was what Baptists did. Reading the Bible is hard work. Biblical
scholars have, over the centuries, fought over interpretations;
examined minute details, even revised and edited the text. It is a
Bronze and Iron Age set of books and writings transcribed by men
trying to hand down stories and myths. We've all played telephone. A
story is whispered to a person who repeats it to the next person in
line and so on. The last person repeats the story aloud, and everyone
has a great laugh at how it has been mangled in the process. Imagine a
set of stories handed down for centuries, by folks with different
skills and agendas. Just try to get through Genesis without doubling
over like the folks playing telephone: contradictions, errors, talking
snakes, knowledge trees. Metaphors maybe but, come on... It is a
fascinating, important work of art – a worthy subject of study. But
the unerring word of God? Even the New Testament, the Christian
section is filled with contradictions and strange utterances.
I didn't have the patience or the interest to take on the Bible in
detail, but I still wanted to know how this book had glued the
religious for all these years. This being the age of Google, I no
longer had to seek out libraries and rummage through card files for
answers. I didn't even have to read. Welcome to YouTube. Dozens of
lectures, polemics, reviews, criticisms of the Bible, Christianity,
Islam and religion in general – literally a life-time of study right
there for the taking. Never talk about sports or politics or religion.
This age-old maxim is particularly true on YouTube. You look for
insight but all you get is nasty argument. And quickly you learn that
the most prevalent view of religiosity in America is indifference, but
regionally and politically evangelicals are passionate to witness to
anyone, particularly Jehovah's Witness and Mormons. Invariably,
atheists would return fire, sometimes mocking, sometimes flailing
about in frustration, filled with certainty and scorn.
No Christian alternative seemed particularly useful to me, nothing
that I could embrace and hold as my path to salvation. I wasn't
interested in joining the right church. I've never been a joiner. No
clubs, fraternities, nothing. The only membership card I hold is from
a fraternal organization that my father wanted me to join. He worked
hard to get me in and to respect him, I still am a nominal member.
Choosing a new church seemed like such a Protestant thing to do. We
Catholics never had to go up and down the aisles choosing and
selecting. We just went in, got what we wanted and left. This
non-denominational choice seemed like one of those no-label store
brands – a characterless white can that was stuck in the back of the
pantry because you didn't want anyone you know that you were so cheap
- hardly an inspiring pathway to God.
It was doubtful my attendance record would improve anyway,
particularly if I didn't have family to share the experience with.
However my goal was the same as always. I was only interested in
getting good with God. That meant I had to look beyond Christianity.
Beyond the institutions that didn't really seem to be honoring Jesus,
anyhow. Like Mary, in many churches he seemed to have an also-starring
role. I was unsure of this but maybe they were right. To achieve my
faith maybe I had to bypass the Son, and deal directly with the Old
Man.
I had brushed past Buddhism, Hinduism and other Eastern disciplines as
only a curiosity. Culturally so different, they were hard to identify
with and while elements are of course worthy, others are just too
foreign and forbidding. Islam seemed more repressive and backward than
some (most?) of Christianity and way too bellicose. New Age
spirituality just seemed false and self-indulgent. Honestly, most of
the folks who claim to be "spiritual, not religious" were just soft
core agnostics to me. The thought of worshipping Gaia just makes me
giggle. Wicca? Witches? Sorry. Pass. Way too much work and my wife
hates clutter anyhow. Maybe just simple Deism- barebones philosophy,
but if God just created the world and then got out of the way, where
the hell would I find him? I couldn't find him as a Christian and he
was supposedly there. The Deism desert was just too vast.
None of these paths worked for my goal. I had to get good with God and
religion was getting in the way.
Why was this so hard? Why after a lifetime of asking, indeed pleading
to be granted membership into the club was I still being ignored? How
could the faithful be so certain? Where was I falling short? More good
deeds? More pronouncements of faith? How could He be so cruel? Why
would He allow my Church to be destroyed and take away my lifelong
pathway? Why after all this effort could I find no peace? Was it
really an all-loving God's will to tease and torture His flock for
their whole lives? He demands recognition in the First Commandment,
yet ignores us when it is given. Was He really as brutal, selfish and
demanding as He was portrayed in the Bible? Why did He offer us
sacraments to help guide us to the path when, despite all the
reverence and trust we held in them, we were ignored? How could He do
this to us?
The answer is He couldn't and didn't, because of simplicity itself:
god.is.imaginary.
Uh Oh.
THE MOMENT
It was like thunderbolt - the most terrifying, fearful and
exhilarating moment of my life. At long last, after a lifetime of
struggle, pain and uncertainty, it made sense. It was a moment of
clarity like no other. I had been duped so cruelly that for my entire
life I believed in Santa Claus. Now I knew the truth; what was behind
all those disappointments, failings and why worshipful spiritual
satisfaction was unachievable. Why the elusive circle of faith was
impossible to penetrate. It was all a scam - a heartless wicked
immoral scam perpetrated by a series of foul dicks that for centuries
have interpreted and re-interpreted a series of Bronze and Iron Age
myths to perpetuate their power and influence – a continuum of crap.
Centuries of evil. Millions of lives wasted in wars fought over
made-up fairy tales. Advances in science and virtually all other
disciplines have been able to expose much of this but the mythology
continues – a blend of fables, blind wishes and ignorant trusting
communities just waiting to be exploited. As I say these things, my
heart hurts because it sounds so harsh and hateful. I don't want to
sound resentful about being duped and l believe the examination of
religion and its impact on society is fascinating and extremely
useful. It's not all bad, but after all the poison it has spread,
religion is hardly benign. It breaks my heart, but we've all been had.
So here I sit - alone, with the realization that I am a non-believer –
an atheist. And I HATE atheists because they are smug, arrogant
(mostly) leftists hell-bent on turning the government over to PETA.
And here I sit - a right-leaning atheist at that - one of the most
reviled subsets of the most reviled group in America. And I don't even
have God to turn to for support.
I guess technically, I'm an agnostic in the sense that I don't KNOW
that God doesn't exist. But that is true of all atheists. There's no
such thing as Gnostic atheist – the lack of knowledge makes the term
impossible – so it is a distinction without a difference. Still, the
term seems so harsh and bitter. It carries a lot of baggage, whereas,
"non-believer", "not religious", even "agnostic" sounds less
threatening and implies to the religious that there is still hope.
There is no getting around it, though. It is a rejection of religion,
which will be offensive and threatening to much of the world. I am
decidedly not anti-theist and believe strongly that every person
should seek his own path, as I did mine. It is not my place or will to
interfere with this most important process for anyone. Religious or
not, we all deserve the maximal amount of happiness allowed and the
pathway to that goal should be unimpeded.
NOW WHAT AND WORLDVIEWS
My former church has arrogantly tossed away its moral authority, yet
continues to try to perpetuate superstitions in spite of provable
scientific advances. This is not like the infamous, just-forgiven
Galileo incident so misunderstood; it is things like condoms and In
vitro fertilization, even among married couples (!). So, yes, despite
my father's admonitions I must criticize the Church for their failings
in the clearly immoral act of allowing disease to flourish and
preventing couples to propagate. I'm confident the God I was taught to
believe in would approve of my objections.
So what does this really mean? What does a non-Christian me think like
now. How will this change me? Guidelines are suddenly gone and it is
quite a revelation for the newly deconverted. EVERYTHING has to be
reexamined. For a Catholic this means a total worldview revision – a
dizzying array of suppositions that go by the board. Bedrock beliefs
like the existence of the soul, heaven, hell, the afterlife, sin,
prayer, purgatory, grace, the trinity, virgin births, talking snakes,
the supernatural , magical transubstantiation, the saints, all
divinities, past and present – it goes on and on and as each
superstition is exposed, it is frightening, disorienting and oddly,
comforting at the same time.
After a lifetime of uncertainty and anguish, I no longer have to be
concerned about being saved. There's nothing to be saved from. This
life here, now, is perfect - all you'll ever need and all you're ever
going to get. You can live your entire life with a sense of awe and
wonder and love and treasure every moment without fear of supernatural
retribution. A life unburdened by penalties, punishments and suppliant
reward from a mysterious, vengeful myth. Maybe that's my gift. But I
paid quite a price.
Ironically, atheism frees you to live a moral life, one where good
deeds are performed for their own sake, not as acts designed to
selfishly spare you from God's wrath. Morals preceded the Bible
anyhow. Theists just appropriated it from the ancients and pretended
they were the authors.
The altered worldview doesn't just eliminate superstitions. It forces
you to look at long held precepts differently, as well.
I touched on gay rights earlier. Some Christians are hate-filled and
fearful of gays, particularly the Evangelicals who captured the
Republican Party, one of many reasons why I have lost respect for the
GOP. (Don't worry. Democrats still lead the pack in wackiness.) I
don't believe the government or the church has any role in private
marriages or any domestic arrangements for that matter, other than
recognizing civil unions. Leave the gays alone and let them live and
love. If they want to get married what difference does it really make
to your life? My deconversion has made me suspect and mistrustful of
all supposed authority, although I have always supported gay rights.
Get out of our bedrooms and medicine cabinets and closets and stick to
your knitting like protecting the border and cleaning up the highway.
The most dramatic social issue I've altered my view on, without
question, is abortion where I've flipped 180°. When I decided to
reconsider things with as honest and clean a slate as possible I
reluctantly approached this one because it is so emotional and
fundamental. I may write about it in detail some time, but the bottom
line is I now support the pro-choice position enthusiastically. I
still believe late- term abortions are morally reprehensible and
recent articles about ethicists supporting the killing of newborns
because they are "morally irrelevant" is dangerous and sick, but I was
amazed to learn that almost a ¼ of U.S. pregnancies end in abortions.
I do make a distinction between a woman's right to choose and the
viability restrictions resulting in the right to life of the infant, a
point frequently missed in articles and arguments. Often Pro-choice
advocates seek unrestricted rights and that is selfish and
unrealistic. Neonatal medicine is developing an artificial placenta
that would make ten week old embryos "viable" which shows how
important it is to allow science to operate unhampered. There's more,
but this represents a major breakthrough for me, an instance of
unhindered inquiry that I didn't think I was capable of.
In school we learned of Greek and Roman mythology and they seemed to
have a different god for all of life's contingencies. To a 20th
century schoolchild it seemed so silly - yet on Sunday we were
worshipping their one remaining god and it seemed so rational. I don't
hate God nor am I angry at him despite, in many ways, a wasted life.
He's imaginary to me – an interesting worthy philosophical concept,
but nothing more.
FAMILY
Family has always been important to me. We don't always get along but
we're better than most. As you can tell, I've always considered myself
an outcast – the black sheep if you will and oddly, I always felt a
slight discomfort with my immediate family because of this. My parents
were complex people with complex histories and in many ways unsuited
to raise a family. But we were loved, cared for and given every
opportunity imaginable. They made sacrifices, demanded little and
generally did the best job they knew. Their complexities however
spilled over into our lives in different ways and I believe caused
unintended damage in all of us. I definitely know I was damaged, but I
loved them.
We all want love and acceptance and I've been motivated my entire life
to having that with my family, but as I explained I always felt
excluded from the circle and now, with this revelation my long sought
goal is probably gone forever. Some time ago, my sister inquired about
my "spiritual health." "I'm fine," I answered, an honest appraisal at
the time, because I was sincerely making the effort to connect. And I
was becoming comfortable that God, being fair and forgiving would look
out for me. Now I look back at that and realize it was silly. I can't
do it. I can't join in the circle. True faith is a gift of sorts – but
it is an unreasonable notion that can only be imagined. I sought it
for so long without realizing it was an illusion. But its power has
motivated all mankind and inspired the daring to seek evidence, so
maybe that's the gift after all. It's tantalizing promise forces us to
seek the truth. The "God of the gaps" is so much easier but
relentlessly incomplete.
I love my family and always want the best for all of us. I could
continue the pretense – life would definitely be easier and a little
hypocrisy is the coin of the realm nowadays. But that ultimately would
not be fair to anyone. After a lifetime of lies and delusions, I need
to be honest with myself at the least. I have great fear that my
family is going to abandon me. I hope not and will be heartbroken if
it happens, but I literally have no choice.
Accepting my atheism, after all these years as a Catholic Christian is
a challenging process and very disconcerting, but so many of life's
mysteries are finally being solved and so many of my fears and
anxieties are dissipating. I can't say I had a pure Damascus
experience, my curiosity still forces me to wonder but
non-supernatural answers while more difficult, are much more
satisfying. Becoming atheist is easy. Becoming ex-Catholic is really
hard. Admitting it to yourself and "coming out," really, REALLY hard.
It may be that some of my family will not be surprised by this
admission; I'm guessing others, no doubt, will be shocked and
disappointed. It's a very strange experience to hear myself saying and
thinking things that I never would have dreamed seriously considering
a just short time ago.
Trust me, a lot of jokes have been made about Catholic guilt over the
years -- but to me they're not funny anymore. They are a grim reminder
of a life wasted in pointless prayer and penance for sins that never
existed -a life that was boldly abused by a delusional authority. If
an atheist had mocked me as a Christian a short time ago; I would have
punched out in defense. Now I realize my folly and his frustration. My
viewpoint has been altered and I am adjusting to it, desperately
trying to sidestep anger.
To my family: I dread the hurt and pain I may cause and want everyone
to know my love for you is greater now that you have my undivided
attention. I hope my failure as a Christian will not disappoint you.
Please understand.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
What Does it Mean to be a Spiritual Person?
Dr. Margaret Paul, Ph.D
You go to church every Sunday and you say your prayers every day. Does
this mean you are a spiritual person?
No.
You practice yoga and meditate every day. Does this mean you are a
spiritual person?
No.
You belong to spiritual group and are devoted to following the
teachings of the group. Does this mean you are a spiritual person?
No.
What, then, does it mean to be a spiritual person?
Being a spiritual person is synonymous with being a person whose
highest priority is to be loving to oneself and others. A spiritual
person cares about people, animals, and the planet. A spiritual person
knows that we are all One, and consciously attempts to honor this
Oneness. A spiritual person is a kind person.
So, you can go to church every Sunday and say your prayers every day,
without caring about loving yourself, others and the planet. You can
practice yoga and meditate every day without being conscious of what
is loving and what is not loving in your thoughts and actions. You can
belong to a spiritual group and devotedly follow the teachings, yet
still be judgmental toward yourself and others in your daily life.
There are many people who do not practice a religion, who do not
meditate, pray or belong to any group, who are very spiritual people.
These people naturally do caring things for others. They think about
how they can help. Their thoughts are kind rather than judgmental
toward themselves and toward others. When you look at them, you see
kindness in their eyes.
There are many religious people who are anything but kind. We all know
of religious people who are extremely judgmental, righteous, and
outright mean. Can you be both religious and spiritual? Of course! But
only when you are operating in your religion from your heart rather
than from the learned dogma of your mind.
Years ago I very briefly attended a "spiritual" group. People would
meet in an auditorium to hear the leader of the group speak. The
second time I attended I heard a number of parents yelling at their
children and judging them to try to control them. These parents were
being anything but kind with their children. That was the last time I
attended the spiritual group. The focus of the group was surrender to
God, but love was rarely in the picture! They obviously had a very
different experience of God than I did.
My experience of God is that God is the energy of Love that created us
and sustains us. In my experience, "God is Spirit" (John 4:24) and
"God is love" (1 John 4:16). Anything that is not of love, peace, joy,
truth and kindness is not of God. Praying to God does not mean that
you are allowing the spirit that is God - the love, peace, joy, truth
and kindness that is God - to guide your thoughts and actions.
Practicing yoga or meditating does not mean that you have invited the
love that is God into your heart, or that you are turning to that
ever-present love to learn about what is in your highest good, and the
highest good of others and the planet.
If you want to be a spiritual person, then let kindness be your
guiding light - kindness toward yourself, toward others, toward
animals, and toward this beautiful planet that is our home. Recognize
that we all have the spark of love that is God within us, and learn to
honor that love so that you can know and experience the Oneness of all
that is.
Dr. Margaret Paul, Ph.D. is a best-selling author, speaker, and
co-creator of Inner Bonding healing process. Dr. Paul has dedicated
her life to helping others improve their lives by strengthening
personal relationships, overcoming addictions, becoming better
parents, and growing spiritually and mentally.
You go to church every Sunday and you say your prayers every day. Does
this mean you are a spiritual person?
No.
You practice yoga and meditate every day. Does this mean you are a
spiritual person?
No.
You belong to spiritual group and are devoted to following the
teachings of the group. Does this mean you are a spiritual person?
No.
What, then, does it mean to be a spiritual person?
Being a spiritual person is synonymous with being a person whose
highest priority is to be loving to oneself and others. A spiritual
person cares about people, animals, and the planet. A spiritual person
knows that we are all One, and consciously attempts to honor this
Oneness. A spiritual person is a kind person.
So, you can go to church every Sunday and say your prayers every day,
without caring about loving yourself, others and the planet. You can
practice yoga and meditate every day without being conscious of what
is loving and what is not loving in your thoughts and actions. You can
belong to a spiritual group and devotedly follow the teachings, yet
still be judgmental toward yourself and others in your daily life.
There are many people who do not practice a religion, who do not
meditate, pray or belong to any group, who are very spiritual people.
These people naturally do caring things for others. They think about
how they can help. Their thoughts are kind rather than judgmental
toward themselves and toward others. When you look at them, you see
kindness in their eyes.
There are many religious people who are anything but kind. We all know
of religious people who are extremely judgmental, righteous, and
outright mean. Can you be both religious and spiritual? Of course! But
only when you are operating in your religion from your heart rather
than from the learned dogma of your mind.
Years ago I very briefly attended a "spiritual" group. People would
meet in an auditorium to hear the leader of the group speak. The
second time I attended I heard a number of parents yelling at their
children and judging them to try to control them. These parents were
being anything but kind with their children. That was the last time I
attended the spiritual group. The focus of the group was surrender to
God, but love was rarely in the picture! They obviously had a very
different experience of God than I did.
My experience of God is that God is the energy of Love that created us
and sustains us. In my experience, "God is Spirit" (John 4:24) and
"God is love" (1 John 4:16). Anything that is not of love, peace, joy,
truth and kindness is not of God. Praying to God does not mean that
you are allowing the spirit that is God - the love, peace, joy, truth
and kindness that is God - to guide your thoughts and actions.
Practicing yoga or meditating does not mean that you have invited the
love that is God into your heart, or that you are turning to that
ever-present love to learn about what is in your highest good, and the
highest good of others and the planet.
If you want to be a spiritual person, then let kindness be your
guiding light - kindness toward yourself, toward others, toward
animals, and toward this beautiful planet that is our home. Recognize
that we all have the spark of love that is God within us, and learn to
honor that love so that you can know and experience the Oneness of all
that is.
Dr. Margaret Paul, Ph.D. is a best-selling author, speaker, and
co-creator of Inner Bonding healing process. Dr. Paul has dedicated
her life to helping others improve their lives by strengthening
personal relationships, overcoming addictions, becoming better
parents, and growing spiritually and mentally.
Monday, 7 May 2012
The evil church school
By exCLCer ~
"When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will
fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle."
In 1976/77, when I was only about 2 years old, my mother got involved
with a church called Covenant Life (AKA TAG, Gathering Of Believers,
People of Destiny International, and Sovereign Grace Ministries
depending on the year) and got pregnant by one of the church members,
and was advised to marry him. She did. So, I along with my eventual 8
siblings, were all in this church by default and through no choice of
our own.
We all attended the church school CLS from the first year it opened in
the lower level of the frost center in Aspen Hill Md. As a child, not
knowing any different, I didn't think it odd that field trips were
actually "Right to Life Picketing" sessions, where we wore aborted
fetus sandwich board signs and shouted "murderer" at random people. I
thought it was normal that the children were routinely "spanked" by
the principal for any and every little thing — perceived attitude,
fidgeting in class, running in the hall, etc. I didn't think at the
time, it was odd to have required reading like the "Pilgrims Progress"
in second grade, with issues like despondence, suicide, and legality,
with atheists and giants who are out to abduct and murder pilgrims
(christians) and then be instructed on the severe burden of sin being
so great that our life's purpose was to "carry that despondent burden
on a path of deliverance" -- quite a weighty job for a child. I didn't
know kids in other schools were reading "The prince and the pauper"
and "A cat in the Hat".
I didn't really understand why the library in the school was so small,
and most of the books had several pages stapled together, and why when
I checked a book out and pulled the staples out of those pages I was a
sinner and severely punished at the school when they saw the book came
back un-stapled. I was an avid reader (still am) and would sign out a
new book almost daily. Even the reference books, encyclopedias
(Britannica, with beautiful covers and pretty gold lines on the spine)
had many pages stapled. I was actually doing a report on something to
do with earth science, and looking things up led me to pages that were
stapled together. I unstapled them while there in the "library" and
read (OH NO, wait for it…..) a brief reference to Darwin's theory of
evolution! I returned the book to the shelf, and same days later the
principal was somehow told the pages had been unstapled, and I was the
last person to have signed for that book. I was called back from class
to the principal's office where I was told I should have known better
and would now be "disciplined" for it, and then was told to bend over
the principal's desk, where he then pulled up my dress, exposing my
underwear, and spanked me 15 or 20 times with a large flat board,
counting it out as he went, and simultaneously warning me not to move
so I wouldn't get hit in the wrong place. I eventually learned they
would continue to hit you until they felt you were crying loudly
enough to show submission or brokenness. The students would often joke
in whispers amongst themselves about who cried the loudest and how
many classrooms away you could hear it from. The instrument changed
periodically from a wooden board to a fiberglass rod with holes in it,
but they were never shy to use it, that's for sure. I remember one boy
who had showed us classmates where they had missed his buttocks and
hit his legs, leaving a clear purple imprint of the board with the
holes in it for days afterwards. He had clearly not submitted to their
warning of staying still during this discipline, although he claimed
to us that he had, and they just had bad aim. As was customary, a note
would be sent home to your parents informing them that you had been
disciplined that day and why. This was not an unusual occurrence….
happened daily to any large number of students there. We understood it
to be something that could happen at any time for pretty much
anything. My little brother was spanked like this a few times in the
same day as a preschooler (maybe 4 or 5 years old) for forgetting not
to run in the hallway — multiple times in one day! It was sometimes
explained as "you broke the rules and this is to teach you", but often
it was very ambiguous like "you have not been acting in the spirit of
gods law, and your attitude is not in accordance with a spirit of
obedience" – as if THAT clearly explains it to an elementary age
child. After asking my teacher a question about whether Catholics were
going to hell, since according to her only Christians went to heaven,
I couldn't get a satisfactory answer, so out of curiosity I persisted,
and it was, of course, my persistence in questioning which showed an
"attitude of disobedience, not one of submission". And again, I was
sent to the office to be "disciplined" in the usual manner. Parents
would get these notes and were free to call and discuss it with the
principal, but clearly the principal was always right and I can't
remember a single time it was ever questioned. Some of my friends
would tell me they would be spanked additionally once they got home,
if they were to go home having had to be "disciplined" at school that
day. Having ungodly children was taught to be a clear show of parents
who weren't doing their job of controlling their child's attitudes and
behavior, and a strong will was to be spanked out of each and every
one. I mean there were hundreds of books sold every sunday at the
church on this very topic just to remind parents of the need to do
this, and often. As an adult now I find the whole practice vehement
and perverse. I know a lot of "christians" will disagree with me, as
spanking their kids (and allowing other adults to do so as well) is
considered a major part of good parenting, but amazingly enough I was
able to raise a wonderful, compassionate, smart, well rounded, and
happy son all the way to adulthood (he is now in college) without ever
having to hit him, not once! Imagine that! I felt my responsibility as
a parent was to teach, love, and guide my child through life, not
"gain control through enforcement". And it works.
And I certainly didn't understand the true cost of attending this
church school — how parents had to be current church members in good
standing, and tuition depended on their level of involvement with the
church ("oh, you're short on tuition this month? Well you can clean
the pastor's house, or babysit for one of them— did you tithe this
month? Let me check the tithing records. Have you missed any required
homegroup meetings this month? Do we have any reports from your
homegroup leaders of you being "unteachable"?). The words and phrases
used within this church might sound innocuous, but anybody who has
escaped a cult before knows how the most seemingly innocent phrases
like "care", "unteachability", etc all have deeper darker and often
threatening meaning behind them.
I thought it was normal that we couldn't listen to the radio – it was
secular and an outside influence from sinners trying to damn us to
hell along with them – and that TV was mostly the same. It was a
childhood, wary and afraid of anything outside of the church since it
surely meant hell fire and damnation. This idea of secular vs the
church (bad vs. good), (always wrong vs. always right) was not merely
"perceived"…it was clearly and unequivocally taught and encouraged as
the truth. I didn't make up the idea…..it was reiterated through
constant teaching and preaching and insisted upon through discipline
and punishment. Note, there were some really nice people and teachers
I remember as well including some teachers and other church families.
But even they, probably always having the best intentions, had
subscribed to the theology and practices already put in place in the
school and homes by the church leadership. It's not necessarily just
personal issues I have with individuals, it's the ideology of it all
that the actions and practices stem from which are at the root of the
problems.
I often mused to myself even as a little girl, how sneaky and
incredibly smart all these outsiders must be, because they put on SUCH
a convincing show of being really good nice people -- but they must be
wicked since the church says so. I secretly respected the few outsider
women I had encountered because they seemed so nice and happy, even
without submitting to a man's leadership. It must be a trap – how
could someone know they were going to hell and seem to not have a care
in the world?
Fast forward through more than 10 years of this indoctrination, sin
picking, heavy centralized shepherding, and being limited to the
churches circle in school, church, homegroup, youth group,…. (hell,
even vacation was only ever to these church sponsored retreats).The
secular world was something to be afraid of.
My mother started to get concerned when her usually perfectly well
behaved 11 year old daughter had been "acting out", having a "bad
attitude" towards her husband, and the church had advised my mother to
admonish her and demand she respect him as godly children should.
Maybe my mother wasn't exhibiting enough submission at home as an
example to her daughters? When she found out a few years later that
actually her husband had been sexually abusing her daughter since age
11, she was devastated. She immediately called the pastors (John
Loftness and Gary Riccucci) as was the only customary and acceptable
reaction to any family issue as directed by the church. These church
leaders handled this situation in the worst ways possible.
I could detail a hundred things they did next which only made the
situation worse by blaming the victim, attempting to cover up the
crime and keep it secret, to supporting the pedophile financially and
legally. They sent my mother to her care group leader for counseling
who told her to god wanted her to send her daughter away so that this
man could return to the family home as the head of the household.
My mother insisted on finding counseling for her children. The pastors
had told her they were looking for counseling for my mother and her
children, when really they were biding time, and three weeks went by
after she told them and he had admitted to the crime. Only because she
continued to insist on finding counseling, the pastors then, knowing a
counselor would be required to report the sexual abuse, retained legal
counsel for the pedophile, and assisted him in turning himself in as a
show of repentance. The pastors pressured her to ask the court for
leniency for this man who had abused her child. They testified as
character witnesses for him in court. He had repented and been
forgiven, just like that. We were all warned not to tell anyone in the
church, even though the abuser was still attending — it would be
gossip.
But my mother was not submissive and she refused to beg the court to
release the man who sexually assaulted her child as the church had
told her to. So we (my mother and her 9 children) were put out of the
school, and spiraled into a state of dire poverty over the next year.
My mother pleaded with the church for help, but they only further
demonized her. The pastor told my mother, her "poverty was self
induced" because she had not been submissive to their guidance. Having
always been a homemaker and mother in the church approved way, she had
little means of providing for her 9 children. She went and got a
minimum wage job and worked until it almost killed her. Our
electricity was cut off, our house was in foreclosure, we were
starving, when my mother came down with pneumonia and was
hospitalized. Having offered no help so far, the same pastors showed
up to the hospital to tell her they would make sure all of us children
were taken care of while she was in the hospital. But actually they
were plotting with the recently released pedophile to assist him in
petitioning the court for full custody of the children. They had been
making anonymous calls to the state saying my mother was unfit to try
to help the sexual pervert gain custody of the children so he wouldn't
have to pay child support once the impending divorce was final. The
social workers were surprised the church leaders had not done more and
were not confident at the time that they were going to really help at
all, considering they had seemed more supportive of the child molester
than they were of the victim and family. The social workers also said
they were concerned that if the state did not step in, certain much
needed agency support wouldn't be readily available to us all, like
professional counseling, and legal aid for my mother to get child
support from the ex. They felt leaving us to rely on a church, who had
done little so far, could end up even more disastrous than it already
was. They did ask the pastors if there was anything the church could
do to avoid separating the kids and placing them in foster homes with
so many of us, finding foster homes for all the children was almost
impossible. Coincidentally (NOT), the kids young enough not to be able
to tell anyone about the sexual abuse were placed with a few church
families for a few weeks until the state put them into outside foster
homes to make us all eligible for services. Being old enough to tel
people their secrets, I was sent to state facilities immediately. JL
told me that day "we would like to help but we have no place for you
to go, there is nobody willing to take you in, so just go on to the
shelter (alone) and we will continue to look for a family that is
willing to let you stay with them until your mom recovers". That was
the last time I heard from him, until I saw him once, a year later, in
family court (testifying to the good character of the molester). I was
separated from my siblings, and dropped off at a shelter for homeless
delinquents, followed by institutions, foster homes and anywhere else
the state could find an open bed. But the pastors care and concern
only ever was for the molester — they arranged for the kids to "visit
their father" (thankfully supervised per the courts), and at one point
even required my sister, the victim of his sexual assaults, to come
into their offices and sit down in a meeting to force her to accept
her abusers apology, so he could be forgiven and resume membership in
the church (which he did and remarried in that church, had two
daughters, and still attends to this day).
There's a long list of decisions the church made that negatively
affected and re-victimized my family. Once I saw they had deserted me
completely, I started sending letters to the two pastors and the
church, every year on the anniversary of the day my mother reported
the abuse to them, listing the things they had done, and telling them
I wanted to be a constant reminder of their awful actions. They never
once responded or acknowledged these letters (and later emails). I
would drive by their church building and spit out the window at it.
Years went by and I continued to send the letters, even when I knew
they would never respond. One year as I was preparing to write the
letter as ususal, I checked online to make sure their addresses had
not changed, and I came across a blog called SGMSurvivors. This blog
had many ex members of this group of churches, telling their horrific
stories of abuse by the leaders and the church. I was floored at the
similarities between my experience and others. First, to find out I
was not alone in what I had experienced, was amazing to me, having
imagined for so long that it was just us. But to read how they
systematically protected pedophiles and abusers and re-victimized the
victims of these perpetrators in a longstanding pattern of abuse of
their authority infuriated me. I eventually posted my story on the
blog and have followed its progression since then as it continues to
follow along the ever dramatic roller coaster that is SGM ministries
through the perspectives of those who have survived its worst.
http://www.sgmsurvivors.com/
One day in the grocery store I ran into someone I had gone to the
church school with. He recognized me and asked about my family and I
told him what had actually happened. He had no idea about what had
really happened. He asked if he could go to the pastors to question
them about it, and I of course said yes. He did just that, and the
initial response much later to him from one of the pastors named Gary
was:
"Steven,
Please forgive my long overdue response.
Thank you for making me aware of your conversation… and for your
obvious heart for the care of anyone drifting from fellowship with
Christ…for whatever reason.
Yes, John and I had primary pastoral responsibility for the family
during what was certainly a most tragic, grieving and painful
experience.
The sin committed and subsequent fragmentation of their family was
one of the saddest experiences of our ministry. Because of the sin and
alienation there was a need for separation, so John provided care for
the mother and children while I walked the father through the
necessary legal process in taking responsibility for his actions.
As she got older, no doubt much discussion took place between her
and her Mom about that very difficult season. I would be glad to talk
personally to you, to answer any questions and to explain the steps we
took and why, as this tragedy unfolded."
Maybe I'm pessimistic, but it sounded like an offer to take the
opportunity to justify and rewrite history from an advantageous
viewpoint. I have no reason to suspect any different. If they felt
they had done something wrong, surely they would have responded to MY
letters over the years. I wrote another excruciatingly long email and
sent it to both pastors John and Gary suggesting to them that an
apology would at least help their own reputations they cared so much
about. After this church member again followed up about it with them,
and in the midst of a ongoing public shakeup in their corporate ranks,
they finally responded to me. Gary, in part, wrote:
"It appears that, at least in some of your comments, there may be
some misunderstanding of what we did and why. Our hope is that a
conversation and some clarification about the past may be a means of
God's comfort and grace to you for the future. Please contact John or
me if you feel that a conversation might be helpful."
John, in part, wrote:
"Our care (or lack of care as the case may be) for your family
during those years was one of the most challenging tasks that we have
encountered as pastors in more than 30 years. That is not to excuse
any failures on our part, but to let you know that, in the light of
today and what we have learned since then, and especially in light of
getting your perspective, we would see deficiencies in our care. There
are gaps that we may be able to fill in and things we remember that
may broaden your understanding, but please don't take that as making
any defense or let it take away from the deep sadness we feel for your
experiences in the aftermath of Dave's sin against your sister and
mother, and beyond that, to your entire family."
Both replies ended with an offer to meet and discuss everything. I
really struggled with wanting to believe they would have the decency
and integrity to actually acknowledge and admit to their wrongs,
apologize, and leave it at that if we met. But the words that keep
jumping out at me are: "misunderstanding" and "broaden your
understanding" and "gaps we may be able to fill in" and "sadness we
feel for your experience" (as opposed to sadness we feel for our
actions). I don't trust them. I also feel like now as an adult I have
a CHOICE I didn't have as a child. I can choose to not sit and hear a
whole cockamamie roundabout justification with a good dose of biblical
rhetoric thrown in, especially since I feel like that would only serve
to royally piss me off. And since I'm now an atheist and not a
christian, I am not bound by doctrine to react with humility or
reverence. I don't need reconciliation with them. I don't want to hear
them spout their "words of god", since I believe they are only exist
for those people who choose to believe them, interpret them, and
practice them -- so in that regard, this church showed my very clearly
how they in fact put gods words as they believe them into action (the
"living" version of the things they believe in). IMO a god like that,
were he to exist, wouldn't deserve any following. For me heaven is now
a state of mind, not a place we must find. Even as the membership
rushes to the blind defense of these pastors calling them "men of
integrity", I now have a higher standard for integrity for people in
my life, and they (the pastors) would not now qualify.
I realized that my intention all along was to attempt to have them
acknowledge what they did, hoping that if they actually SEE it, I mean
really GET IT, it won't happen to anyone else. My entire life was
negatively affected for years, by their decisions, in ways that would
make you cringe to know, and if they don't "get it" then maybe others
will. I'm not looking for the truth — I already have it — I was there
– I have all the documents to prove it — I KNOW. I just feel like they
are only sorry it came out -- sorry it was told -- not sorry they did
what they did.
I am angry that their lies and abuses still continue to this day. I
don't carry around constant anger and bitterness with me every day,
for those of you who might think my life is controlled by the past.
It's not. I do struggle with the "what ifs" at times…. and wonder how
life could have really been different for me. But, I also think about
how when I now encounter hungry people, abused people, pregnant
teenagers, foster care children, the homeless, etc. I have a unique
ability to say to them: "I understand" -- and really mean it. I've
accepted all my struggles as a part of life which makes me stronger
than I could've been without it. Percy Shelley, a social justice
advocate and English poet from the 1800's wrote a play called
Prometheus. In it she writes:
"To suffer woes which hope thinks infinite; To endure wrongs
darker than death or night; To defy power which seems omnipotent; To
love, and bear; to hope till hope creates from its own wreck the thing
it contemplates, …this is to be good, great and joyous, beautiful and
free; This is alone Life, Joy,.. and Victory".
"When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will
fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle."
In 1976/77, when I was only about 2 years old, my mother got involved
with a church called Covenant Life (AKA TAG, Gathering Of Believers,
People of Destiny International, and Sovereign Grace Ministries
depending on the year) and got pregnant by one of the church members,
and was advised to marry him. She did. So, I along with my eventual 8
siblings, were all in this church by default and through no choice of
our own.
We all attended the church school CLS from the first year it opened in
the lower level of the frost center in Aspen Hill Md. As a child, not
knowing any different, I didn't think it odd that field trips were
actually "Right to Life Picketing" sessions, where we wore aborted
fetus sandwich board signs and shouted "murderer" at random people. I
thought it was normal that the children were routinely "spanked" by
the principal for any and every little thing — perceived attitude,
fidgeting in class, running in the hall, etc. I didn't think at the
time, it was odd to have required reading like the "Pilgrims Progress"
in second grade, with issues like despondence, suicide, and legality,
with atheists and giants who are out to abduct and murder pilgrims
(christians) and then be instructed on the severe burden of sin being
so great that our life's purpose was to "carry that despondent burden
on a path of deliverance" -- quite a weighty job for a child. I didn't
know kids in other schools were reading "The prince and the pauper"
and "A cat in the Hat".
I didn't really understand why the library in the school was so small,
and most of the books had several pages stapled together, and why when
I checked a book out and pulled the staples out of those pages I was a
sinner and severely punished at the school when they saw the book came
back un-stapled. I was an avid reader (still am) and would sign out a
new book almost daily. Even the reference books, encyclopedias
(Britannica, with beautiful covers and pretty gold lines on the spine)
had many pages stapled. I was actually doing a report on something to
do with earth science, and looking things up led me to pages that were
stapled together. I unstapled them while there in the "library" and
read (OH NO, wait for it…..) a brief reference to Darwin's theory of
evolution! I returned the book to the shelf, and same days later the
principal was somehow told the pages had been unstapled, and I was the
last person to have signed for that book. I was called back from class
to the principal's office where I was told I should have known better
and would now be "disciplined" for it, and then was told to bend over
the principal's desk, where he then pulled up my dress, exposing my
underwear, and spanked me 15 or 20 times with a large flat board,
counting it out as he went, and simultaneously warning me not to move
so I wouldn't get hit in the wrong place. I eventually learned they
would continue to hit you until they felt you were crying loudly
enough to show submission or brokenness. The students would often joke
in whispers amongst themselves about who cried the loudest and how
many classrooms away you could hear it from. The instrument changed
periodically from a wooden board to a fiberglass rod with holes in it,
but they were never shy to use it, that's for sure. I remember one boy
who had showed us classmates where they had missed his buttocks and
hit his legs, leaving a clear purple imprint of the board with the
holes in it for days afterwards. He had clearly not submitted to their
warning of staying still during this discipline, although he claimed
to us that he had, and they just had bad aim. As was customary, a note
would be sent home to your parents informing them that you had been
disciplined that day and why. This was not an unusual occurrence….
happened daily to any large number of students there. We understood it
to be something that could happen at any time for pretty much
anything. My little brother was spanked like this a few times in the
same day as a preschooler (maybe 4 or 5 years old) for forgetting not
to run in the hallway — multiple times in one day! It was sometimes
explained as "you broke the rules and this is to teach you", but often
it was very ambiguous like "you have not been acting in the spirit of
gods law, and your attitude is not in accordance with a spirit of
obedience" – as if THAT clearly explains it to an elementary age
child. After asking my teacher a question about whether Catholics were
going to hell, since according to her only Christians went to heaven,
I couldn't get a satisfactory answer, so out of curiosity I persisted,
and it was, of course, my persistence in questioning which showed an
"attitude of disobedience, not one of submission". And again, I was
sent to the office to be "disciplined" in the usual manner. Parents
would get these notes and were free to call and discuss it with the
principal, but clearly the principal was always right and I can't
remember a single time it was ever questioned. Some of my friends
would tell me they would be spanked additionally once they got home,
if they were to go home having had to be "disciplined" at school that
day. Having ungodly children was taught to be a clear show of parents
who weren't doing their job of controlling their child's attitudes and
behavior, and a strong will was to be spanked out of each and every
one. I mean there were hundreds of books sold every sunday at the
church on this very topic just to remind parents of the need to do
this, and often. As an adult now I find the whole practice vehement
and perverse. I know a lot of "christians" will disagree with me, as
spanking their kids (and allowing other adults to do so as well) is
considered a major part of good parenting, but amazingly enough I was
able to raise a wonderful, compassionate, smart, well rounded, and
happy son all the way to adulthood (he is now in college) without ever
having to hit him, not once! Imagine that! I felt my responsibility as
a parent was to teach, love, and guide my child through life, not
"gain control through enforcement". And it works.
And I certainly didn't understand the true cost of attending this
church school — how parents had to be current church members in good
standing, and tuition depended on their level of involvement with the
church ("oh, you're short on tuition this month? Well you can clean
the pastor's house, or babysit for one of them— did you tithe this
month? Let me check the tithing records. Have you missed any required
homegroup meetings this month? Do we have any reports from your
homegroup leaders of you being "unteachable"?). The words and phrases
used within this church might sound innocuous, but anybody who has
escaped a cult before knows how the most seemingly innocent phrases
like "care", "unteachability", etc all have deeper darker and often
threatening meaning behind them.
I thought it was normal that we couldn't listen to the radio – it was
secular and an outside influence from sinners trying to damn us to
hell along with them – and that TV was mostly the same. It was a
childhood, wary and afraid of anything outside of the church since it
surely meant hell fire and damnation. This idea of secular vs the
church (bad vs. good), (always wrong vs. always right) was not merely
"perceived"…it was clearly and unequivocally taught and encouraged as
the truth. I didn't make up the idea…..it was reiterated through
constant teaching and preaching and insisted upon through discipline
and punishment. Note, there were some really nice people and teachers
I remember as well including some teachers and other church families.
But even they, probably always having the best intentions, had
subscribed to the theology and practices already put in place in the
school and homes by the church leadership. It's not necessarily just
personal issues I have with individuals, it's the ideology of it all
that the actions and practices stem from which are at the root of the
problems.
I often mused to myself even as a little girl, how sneaky and
incredibly smart all these outsiders must be, because they put on SUCH
a convincing show of being really good nice people -- but they must be
wicked since the church says so. I secretly respected the few outsider
women I had encountered because they seemed so nice and happy, even
without submitting to a man's leadership. It must be a trap – how
could someone know they were going to hell and seem to not have a care
in the world?
Fast forward through more than 10 years of this indoctrination, sin
picking, heavy centralized shepherding, and being limited to the
churches circle in school, church, homegroup, youth group,…. (hell,
even vacation was only ever to these church sponsored retreats).The
secular world was something to be afraid of.
My mother started to get concerned when her usually perfectly well
behaved 11 year old daughter had been "acting out", having a "bad
attitude" towards her husband, and the church had advised my mother to
admonish her and demand she respect him as godly children should.
Maybe my mother wasn't exhibiting enough submission at home as an
example to her daughters? When she found out a few years later that
actually her husband had been sexually abusing her daughter since age
11, she was devastated. She immediately called the pastors (John
Loftness and Gary Riccucci) as was the only customary and acceptable
reaction to any family issue as directed by the church. These church
leaders handled this situation in the worst ways possible.
I could detail a hundred things they did next which only made the
situation worse by blaming the victim, attempting to cover up the
crime and keep it secret, to supporting the pedophile financially and
legally. They sent my mother to her care group leader for counseling
who told her to god wanted her to send her daughter away so that this
man could return to the family home as the head of the household.
My mother insisted on finding counseling for her children. The pastors
had told her they were looking for counseling for my mother and her
children, when really they were biding time, and three weeks went by
after she told them and he had admitted to the crime. Only because she
continued to insist on finding counseling, the pastors then, knowing a
counselor would be required to report the sexual abuse, retained legal
counsel for the pedophile, and assisted him in turning himself in as a
show of repentance. The pastors pressured her to ask the court for
leniency for this man who had abused her child. They testified as
character witnesses for him in court. He had repented and been
forgiven, just like that. We were all warned not to tell anyone in the
church, even though the abuser was still attending — it would be
gossip.
But my mother was not submissive and she refused to beg the court to
release the man who sexually assaulted her child as the church had
told her to. So we (my mother and her 9 children) were put out of the
school, and spiraled into a state of dire poverty over the next year.
My mother pleaded with the church for help, but they only further
demonized her. The pastor told my mother, her "poverty was self
induced" because she had not been submissive to their guidance. Having
always been a homemaker and mother in the church approved way, she had
little means of providing for her 9 children. She went and got a
minimum wage job and worked until it almost killed her. Our
electricity was cut off, our house was in foreclosure, we were
starving, when my mother came down with pneumonia and was
hospitalized. Having offered no help so far, the same pastors showed
up to the hospital to tell her they would make sure all of us children
were taken care of while she was in the hospital. But actually they
were plotting with the recently released pedophile to assist him in
petitioning the court for full custody of the children. They had been
making anonymous calls to the state saying my mother was unfit to try
to help the sexual pervert gain custody of the children so he wouldn't
have to pay child support once the impending divorce was final. The
social workers were surprised the church leaders had not done more and
were not confident at the time that they were going to really help at
all, considering they had seemed more supportive of the child molester
than they were of the victim and family. The social workers also said
they were concerned that if the state did not step in, certain much
needed agency support wouldn't be readily available to us all, like
professional counseling, and legal aid for my mother to get child
support from the ex. They felt leaving us to rely on a church, who had
done little so far, could end up even more disastrous than it already
was. They did ask the pastors if there was anything the church could
do to avoid separating the kids and placing them in foster homes with
so many of us, finding foster homes for all the children was almost
impossible. Coincidentally (NOT), the kids young enough not to be able
to tell anyone about the sexual abuse were placed with a few church
families for a few weeks until the state put them into outside foster
homes to make us all eligible for services. Being old enough to tel
people their secrets, I was sent to state facilities immediately. JL
told me that day "we would like to help but we have no place for you
to go, there is nobody willing to take you in, so just go on to the
shelter (alone) and we will continue to look for a family that is
willing to let you stay with them until your mom recovers". That was
the last time I heard from him, until I saw him once, a year later, in
family court (testifying to the good character of the molester). I was
separated from my siblings, and dropped off at a shelter for homeless
delinquents, followed by institutions, foster homes and anywhere else
the state could find an open bed. But the pastors care and concern
only ever was for the molester — they arranged for the kids to "visit
their father" (thankfully supervised per the courts), and at one point
even required my sister, the victim of his sexual assaults, to come
into their offices and sit down in a meeting to force her to accept
her abusers apology, so he could be forgiven and resume membership in
the church (which he did and remarried in that church, had two
daughters, and still attends to this day).
There's a long list of decisions the church made that negatively
affected and re-victimized my family. Once I saw they had deserted me
completely, I started sending letters to the two pastors and the
church, every year on the anniversary of the day my mother reported
the abuse to them, listing the things they had done, and telling them
I wanted to be a constant reminder of their awful actions. They never
once responded or acknowledged these letters (and later emails). I
would drive by their church building and spit out the window at it.
Years went by and I continued to send the letters, even when I knew
they would never respond. One year as I was preparing to write the
letter as ususal, I checked online to make sure their addresses had
not changed, and I came across a blog called SGMSurvivors. This blog
had many ex members of this group of churches, telling their horrific
stories of abuse by the leaders and the church. I was floored at the
similarities between my experience and others. First, to find out I
was not alone in what I had experienced, was amazing to me, having
imagined for so long that it was just us. But to read how they
systematically protected pedophiles and abusers and re-victimized the
victims of these perpetrators in a longstanding pattern of abuse of
their authority infuriated me. I eventually posted my story on the
blog and have followed its progression since then as it continues to
follow along the ever dramatic roller coaster that is SGM ministries
through the perspectives of those who have survived its worst.
http://www.sgmsurvivors.com/
One day in the grocery store I ran into someone I had gone to the
church school with. He recognized me and asked about my family and I
told him what had actually happened. He had no idea about what had
really happened. He asked if he could go to the pastors to question
them about it, and I of course said yes. He did just that, and the
initial response much later to him from one of the pastors named Gary
was:
"Steven,
Please forgive my long overdue response.
Thank you for making me aware of your conversation… and for your
obvious heart for the care of anyone drifting from fellowship with
Christ…for whatever reason.
Yes, John and I had primary pastoral responsibility for the family
during what was certainly a most tragic, grieving and painful
experience.
The sin committed and subsequent fragmentation of their family was
one of the saddest experiences of our ministry. Because of the sin and
alienation there was a need for separation, so John provided care for
the mother and children while I walked the father through the
necessary legal process in taking responsibility for his actions.
As she got older, no doubt much discussion took place between her
and her Mom about that very difficult season. I would be glad to talk
personally to you, to answer any questions and to explain the steps we
took and why, as this tragedy unfolded."
Maybe I'm pessimistic, but it sounded like an offer to take the
opportunity to justify and rewrite history from an advantageous
viewpoint. I have no reason to suspect any different. If they felt
they had done something wrong, surely they would have responded to MY
letters over the years. I wrote another excruciatingly long email and
sent it to both pastors John and Gary suggesting to them that an
apology would at least help their own reputations they cared so much
about. After this church member again followed up about it with them,
and in the midst of a ongoing public shakeup in their corporate ranks,
they finally responded to me. Gary, in part, wrote:
"It appears that, at least in some of your comments, there may be
some misunderstanding of what we did and why. Our hope is that a
conversation and some clarification about the past may be a means of
God's comfort and grace to you for the future. Please contact John or
me if you feel that a conversation might be helpful."
John, in part, wrote:
"Our care (or lack of care as the case may be) for your family
during those years was one of the most challenging tasks that we have
encountered as pastors in more than 30 years. That is not to excuse
any failures on our part, but to let you know that, in the light of
today and what we have learned since then, and especially in light of
getting your perspective, we would see deficiencies in our care. There
are gaps that we may be able to fill in and things we remember that
may broaden your understanding, but please don't take that as making
any defense or let it take away from the deep sadness we feel for your
experiences in the aftermath of Dave's sin against your sister and
mother, and beyond that, to your entire family."
Both replies ended with an offer to meet and discuss everything. I
really struggled with wanting to believe they would have the decency
and integrity to actually acknowledge and admit to their wrongs,
apologize, and leave it at that if we met. But the words that keep
jumping out at me are: "misunderstanding" and "broaden your
understanding" and "gaps we may be able to fill in" and "sadness we
feel for your experience" (as opposed to sadness we feel for our
actions). I don't trust them. I also feel like now as an adult I have
a CHOICE I didn't have as a child. I can choose to not sit and hear a
whole cockamamie roundabout justification with a good dose of biblical
rhetoric thrown in, especially since I feel like that would only serve
to royally piss me off. And since I'm now an atheist and not a
christian, I am not bound by doctrine to react with humility or
reverence. I don't need reconciliation with them. I don't want to hear
them spout their "words of god", since I believe they are only exist
for those people who choose to believe them, interpret them, and
practice them -- so in that regard, this church showed my very clearly
how they in fact put gods words as they believe them into action (the
"living" version of the things they believe in). IMO a god like that,
were he to exist, wouldn't deserve any following. For me heaven is now
a state of mind, not a place we must find. Even as the membership
rushes to the blind defense of these pastors calling them "men of
integrity", I now have a higher standard for integrity for people in
my life, and they (the pastors) would not now qualify.
I realized that my intention all along was to attempt to have them
acknowledge what they did, hoping that if they actually SEE it, I mean
really GET IT, it won't happen to anyone else. My entire life was
negatively affected for years, by their decisions, in ways that would
make you cringe to know, and if they don't "get it" then maybe others
will. I'm not looking for the truth — I already have it — I was there
– I have all the documents to prove it — I KNOW. I just feel like they
are only sorry it came out -- sorry it was told -- not sorry they did
what they did.
I am angry that their lies and abuses still continue to this day. I
don't carry around constant anger and bitterness with me every day,
for those of you who might think my life is controlled by the past.
It's not. I do struggle with the "what ifs" at times…. and wonder how
life could have really been different for me. But, I also think about
how when I now encounter hungry people, abused people, pregnant
teenagers, foster care children, the homeless, etc. I have a unique
ability to say to them: "I understand" -- and really mean it. I've
accepted all my struggles as a part of life which makes me stronger
than I could've been without it. Percy Shelley, a social justice
advocate and English poet from the 1800's wrote a play called
Prometheus. In it she writes:
"To suffer woes which hope thinks infinite; To endure wrongs
darker than death or night; To defy power which seems omnipotent; To
love, and bear; to hope till hope creates from its own wreck the thing
it contemplates, …this is to be good, great and joyous, beautiful and
free; This is alone Life, Joy,.. and Victory".
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