Libby Anne hits it out of the park with her most recent response to the old adage of "You were never really a Christian".
I responded to my critics once with a very raw and angry answer. Granted, my critics weren't questioning my former Christian faith, but they were wondering why I was so adamant in chasing down and making an example of religious abusers.
Libby Anne brings my thoughts to the most common dismissal of my de-conversion:
That would be correct, if and only if, I based every single one of my reasons for leaving the faith on my abuse, rendered to me at the hands of those that were supposed to love me - who happened to call themselves Christians. I cannot have any other opinions, facts that I have uncovered, or anything else that might have contributed to the journey.
This, of course, is a false premise. Religious abuse EXPOSED the lies and hypocrisy of religion to me and was a beginning catalyst. But, after it lit the fuse, I became more aware of everything I accepted, because I had always accepted it, and began to deconstruct every bit of my life. No longer would I become beholden to a system - a way of life - where I was expected to think and behave a certain way without airing out every last one of my misgivings - like the Bereans in the days of the Apostle Paul.
I can hear the detractors now:
Go ahead. Feel better about yourself. I'm fine. And if you really care to know why I'm not a Christian anymore, I'll fill you in on a little secret.
I hated getting my lazy ass out of bed every Sunday morning. Not going to church has enabled me to sleep more on the weekends.
Now theologically pretzelify THAT one for a while. I'll give you a cue card for starters: Sleeping is a sin.
I responded to my critics once with a very raw and angry answer. Granted, my critics weren't questioning my former Christian faith, but they were wondering why I was so adamant in chasing down and making an example of religious abusers.
Libby Anne brings my thoughts to the most common dismissal of my de-conversion:
You only left Christianity because people who weren't good Christians, hurt you.
That would be correct, if and only if, I based every single one of my reasons for leaving the faith on my abuse, rendered to me at the hands of those that were supposed to love me - who happened to call themselves Christians. I cannot have any other opinions, facts that I have uncovered, or anything else that might have contributed to the journey.
This, of course, is a false premise. Religious abuse EXPOSED the lies and hypocrisy of religion to me and was a beginning catalyst. But, after it lit the fuse, I became more aware of everything I accepted, because I had always accepted it, and began to deconstruct every bit of my life. No longer would I become beholden to a system - a way of life - where I was expected to think and behave a certain way without airing out every last one of my misgivings - like the Bereans in the days of the Apostle Paul.
I can hear the detractors now:
Well, Sir Incongruous Circumcision *cough *cough...I MEAN Circumspection, you must understand that the catalyst you claim began your journey out of the faith, actually CLOUDED your mind from revealed truth. Furthermore, Paul was congratulating the Bereans for testing everything and accepting his message! - which you clearly have rejected. So...we claim misuse of Scripture, a hardened heart, and well...you might have never been a Christian anyway. Thus, we feel better about ourselves and can blindly move forward without worrying about thinking getting in the way.
Go ahead. Feel better about yourself. I'm fine. And if you really care to know why I'm not a Christian anymore, I'll fill you in on a little secret.
I hated getting my lazy ass out of bed every Sunday morning. Not going to church has enabled me to sleep more on the weekends.
Now theologically pretzelify THAT one for a while. I'll give you a cue card for starters: Sleeping is a sin.
I'm surprised. Normally John Shore is above that nonsense. That's typically the kind of lines we hear from fundies, who are insecure about their faith.
ReplyDeleteI always liked his commentary, even though I didn't agree with him on spirituality, obviously, but with that kind of comment, I might reconsider reading his blog.
It's insulting that he would think that we never believed in Christianity, after all the years of dedication and our lives that we threw into believing it, and the struggle of leaving, realizing that we can't go in believing in it anymore.
There's some other liberal Christian bloggers I think I'll stick to for now, one I really like is Lana of My Musing Corner:
http://wideopenground.com/
I want to comment, I really do. But I don't know where to begin.
ReplyDeleteWhy? Because I hurt. I'm mad. I want to punch something through a wall.
I believed in something once. I believed in the good of what I thought people were doing. And it has been shown to be perverted. And those people think they are so flipping holy and good.
I need to renew my passport. I would have asked one of my friends to be on it as a reference. But that person who I once called my best friend, is nowhere to be found. In fact, none of the people I once was around, largely from my former church, is around any more.
Aside from my wife, all but one, gone.
And tomorrow I have to go to my department head to see if he'll be on my passport renewal form. If not him, then one of our HR people.
That hurts.
It hurts because I have to face the fact that I'm ranting on a blog of a person I barely know. Because the people who are now closest to me I've only met online via facebook. Because I exist, and there are others whose faith and reasons for leaving faith are so easily dismissed by "holier than thou's". Because those so-called friends of mine are so easily wrapped up in people like Driscoll. They'll serve a couple times a year at a soup kitchen but snub people in their church whose family lives don't match up to the "standards". Because the people whose statuses and blogs I read wouldn't be welcome once the dirty truths were out. And that offends my logic and sensibilities.
It hurts because the very people I used to lean on, I can't say anything to. Because tonight I miss one of my best friends. And he's to effing holy to get his hands dirty. He doesn't even check facebook and is so out of touch with the real world... and he didn't used to be this way.
I want to say good riddance to some of their memories. But it's hard to say goodbye. Some of them were good friends but it hurts to be dismissed, left alone, and basically hung out to dry.
Effing DAMN the dismissers. I wish they would be some effing good or else shut up. Agnostics, atheists, believers... they're effing human too, and some are effing good ones.
I was moved by your response. You sound like a thinker, and one who is passionate about those who were once dear friends. I'm sorry that you're hurt- I always think of it as a spiritual house-cleaning. People come and go from your life. Sometimes, that movement has more to do with them than you- while it's painful to say goodbye, sometimes that pain would be dwarfed by the angst caused by allowing judgmental influences to remain close to you. I wish you the best-once you make space, the toxic influences will be replaced by those more pure of heart.
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