A Momentary Lapse Of Reason - My Story V.3

[Checkmate]

This will be around the third time that I will attempt to relate my “spiritual journey” through the minefield of Christianity. Will this one be any different than the preceding two? Well, we’ll see. If I don’t delete it, then I suppose the answer is “yes.” Bear with me, as this is LONG. I'm trying to be brutally honest about all of this. (It's SO embarrassing!) I’ll break it up into three separate posts so as not to wear you out.

 

I suppose the two most important facts that I wish to emphasize are 1) I was NOT raised “Christian”, and 2) my “coming to Christ” was purely arbitrary and I believe not at all sincere. (Not that I didn’t try real hard at it!)

 

Why is this important to note? I want to head off any detractors who wish to argue that I was “never a True Christian™”. No need to argue the point. I freely admit it. I was NEVER a True Christian™. (Whatever the hell THAT is supposed to mean!)

 

Even though I eventually went through all the motions and ceremonies attendant with Christianity, in my heart I never really believed any of it. Doubt and skepticism were never far from my thought processes, even as I preached, taught, sang, worshipped, swayed and TITHED. (And I STILL want my money back! Since the church took it under false pretenses.)

 

So understand, when I say that I wasn’t a True Christian™, I mean that I was never fully, successfully indoctrinated and brain washed into the cult. Thus making my escape easier and inevitable.

 

I’m reminded of John’s gospel where it records Jesus as saying that anyone who does not enter by the door (“Jesus”) is a thief and a robber. [John 10:1-9]I’ve always felt that I came into Christianity via an open window, by-passing the usual security measures and check points. (And a good thing, too!)

 

But before I get into how I got into Christianity as an adult, I’d like to speak briefly (I hope) about my nominal, cynical, youthful Church experience.

 

My mother has always been religious. My father (deceased) was always drunk. [His influence on my life was negligible (except where it was negative) and has nothing to do with anything, hence he will not be referenced further. Yes, I have “issues”. Just let it go.]

 

Anyway, in my nascent years, I vaguely recall being dragged off to Sunday services. The only reason I KNOW this actually occurred is because my mother STILL has the freaking evidence! She has many of my Sunday school drawings and junk stored away with the rest of my childhood accomplishments. Pictures, artwork and report cards from K thru 12th grade. Ah, memories.

 

The church was Lutheran, but the only reason I know this is because of the heretofore referenced memorabilia, and not because I recall the services or doctrine. As far as I was concerned church was just a boring place I had to endure on Sunday, in my finest “Sunday-go-to-meetin’” clothes.

 

As far as influence on everyday living, Christianity had no sway in our household. (Hence the alcohol inspired knock-down, drag-out monthly brawls mom and dad had.) Religion was just something that existed on Sunday morning down at “God’s house.” The rest of the week belonged to us, to do as we saw fit. “God” was just some divine idea lurking in the shadows. Watching and recording our every move all week and waiting for his payoffs on Sunday.

 

This was my “Christian” up-bringing. I had no CLUE who the heck this “Jesus” was. To my best recollection, no one EVER told me about “Jesus” and my need to be “saved” or “born again”. Which is not to say that it didn’t happen. But if it did, those words NEVER made an impression upon my young mind. I didn’t give a damn about religion or God. If it wasn’t on TV or in a Comic Book, then I couldn’t care less.

 

Somewhere in the blur between childhood, adolescence and teenager, the mandate to attend church relaxed. I don’t know why. I don’t recall ever asking. Maybe my mother was tired of the struggle of dragging bored children to church, thus ruining her good time. Who knows? Who cares? Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Participation was no longer mandatory. I had a choice. Go or stay home?

 

Hello, Sunday morning cartoons! (Back then in the ‘70s we had Saturday AND Sunday morning ‘toons. Ah, for the good old days.) Life was good.

 

So I was done with Church. We all were. (I had older siblings, but they aren’t truly relevant to the tale, so ignore those fuckers.) Only dear old mother maintained the charade. Waffling back and forth between Lutheran and Baptist churches, as confused as a feather in a whirlwind. Bah!

 

As I grew older, I grew more cynical. Especially where religion was concerned. I never gave religion much thought unless I was confronted with it. Like when my looney then-sister-in-law (my brother has since been divorced from her) came into my life. Anna-Marie, my SIL, was a true piece of work. As nutty as three fruit cakes and as twisted as church doctrine.

 

Anna was one of those “holier-than-thou” types, who was in church whenever the church doors were opened. Yet she was the most mean-spirited, judgmental, foul-tempered harpy you NEVER wanted to cross. She had childhood abuse issues that she NEVER got settled, and they would surface from time to time, at the MOST inopportune moments. She’d have fits and curl into a crying ball of neuroses, after hurling invectives at all concerned, for one unknown trigger or another.

 

I distinctly recall one day pulling my elder brother aside and giving him this 12-year old’s sage advice: “I would marry this crazy broad if I were you!”

 

He ignored me, and married her anyway. (Stupid.) He caught all sorts of hell from her for 2 decades, until their divorce. (She left HIM for another man. Abandoning her children and moving out of state. All the while still boldly declaring Christ as her savior! Yeah, buddy. Being “born again” surely helped HER, didn’t it?)

 

And Anna wasn’t the only specimen of Christian “holiness” to which I was exposed. EVERY SINGLE CHRISTIAN I ever met was either a nut-job or a hypocrite, or both. I know this because they were ALL members of my family. They all “professed” to be Christian, god-fearing folk, and yet they lived and acted no differently than anybody else. Drunk, cursing, fornicating, adultery, divorce, violence, gambling, astrology, etc., etc. All the while presuming themselves to be “better” than everyone else.

 

And don’t think I didn’t make note of this. My family (parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and whatnot) played a HUGE role in my becoming severely critical and cynical of religion. If it made no difference in a person’s life, then why bother with it?

 

And so I never did. For the better part of three decades I ignored religion and Christianity, except to occasionally lambaste them. I even took a few pages from the LeVey Satanists and began pretending to worship the “devil”, just to make people (more) uncomfortable around me. Fact is, I never believed in Satan any more than I believed in God, Santa Claus, witchcraft, “The Force” or “Vulcan mindmelds.” Fantasy was fantasy, and I was too solidly grounded in reality to be swayed by foolishness.

 

 

Or so I thought.

[Fweethawt]

Fantasy was fantasy, and I was too solidly grounded in reality to be swayed by foolishness.

 

Or so I thought.

Ain't that the truth...

 

It would be nice if standing against this insanity wasn't so damn important.

 

Thanks for the story, Grinch.

[Checkmate]

Fantasy was fantasy, and I was too solidly grounded in reality to be swayed by foolishness.

 

Or so I thought.

Ain't that the truth...

 

It would be nice if standing against this insanity wasn't so damn important.

 

Thanks for the story, Grinch.

Danke. But I ain't quite done yet.

 

Author’s note: In the preceding chapter I made a mistake in text. Here is the corrected sentence…

I distinctly recall one day pulling my elder brother aside and giving him this 12-year old’s sage advice: “I wouldn’t marry this crazy broad if I were you!”

Makes more sense now, don’t it? Carry on.

--------------

PART TWO – A Series of Unfortunate Events

 

I HATE this part of my story. I really do. Life really should come with "rewind" and "erase" buttons.

 

The rest of you have good excuses for having been Christians. You were either raised and brain washed from infancy, or some evangelist sunk his hooks into you and in a moment of weakness you succumbed to his hypnosis. That is excusable. NOT YOUR FAULT.

 

But me? No, MY dumb ass went and stuck my neck in the noose of my own free will! Fucking retard.

 

And if it wasn’t MY life I wouldn’t believe this bizarre chain of events actually happened. I LIVED this, and I STILL can’t believe any of this happened.

 

Okay, enough with the preamble. Let me get this embarrassing chapter of my life over with before I change my mind and not post it. Feel free to stone me later.

 

I was still very much a cynic when I got married in ’91. The issue of religion still meant absolutely nothing to me. So how did I get involved in Christianity? By a series of unfortunate events in which my marriage is the first domino.

 

My marriage was not a happy one, since I only wed because I fucked up and didn’t use a condom one night. This was very much a marriage of inconvenience. I was trying to do the “right thing” by her, since she refused to get an abortion.

 

So, there I was, “Married With CHILDREN.” [We had TWINS! I didn’t want ONE child and here I get slammed with TWO in one shot! If there is a God, then he’s got one fucked up sense of humor.]

 

Before we got married, my wife showed ZERO interest in religion. She was a “sinning” hedonist, just like me. AFTER we got married, she suddenly “got religion.” I don’t recall how or when, but she fell in with the Seventh Day Adventist crowd. She was all into having our son’s circumcised, not eating pork and attending Saturday worship. Very bizarre.

 

I just ignored all of it. Even though, deep down, it pissed me off. It was bad enough that I didn’t like her to start with, but now she has gone and moved the goal posts after the game has started. This was bullshit.

 

I lasted four years in this crappy marriage until I snapped and had enough. We separated in ’95 and the divorce was final in Spring ’96. I was alone again, naturally. I wanted nothing more to do with her or my children. I always did resent my sons for being born. If not for them, I thought, I wouldn’t be in this fix.

 

[Now, before any of you family proponents and loving parents get on my case, let me just say that I KNOW that I was an awful person. I’m owning this. I was (am?) a selfish, evil prick. But if you knew me back then, you’d have CHEERED my divorce. I was always one heartbeat away from killing anyone I hated. Wife and children included. I knew this about myself and decided to take myself out of the equation, for THEIR safety. Fact of the matter is, the only difference between me and a serial killer is that I have YET to act on my impulses.]

 

Some months after the divorce, for some unknown reason, I began listening to Talk Radio. Specifically, Dr. Laura Schlessinger. Most of you probably know this dame. She uses the airwaves as her personal pulpit to declare her views as the moral compass and conscience of America. Well, at that time in my life, what she was saying against negligent and delinquent fathers struck a sympathetic chord in me. (I didn’t even know I HAD a “sympathetic chord”! Go figure.) In divorcing a woman I disliked, I had abandoned my sons. Dr. Laura’s constant “nagging”, as she called it, worked it’s way into my head and I began thinking about doing right by my sons. After all, it wasn’t their fault their father was an evil shit-head.

 

Now, HERE is where things get “spiritual”. Dr. Laura, a converted Jew, spoke often of her religion and religion in general. She spoke very favorably and very convincingly, making me suspect that MAYBE I was all turned around on this religion issue. Up until then, if you’ll recall, all my religious exposure was with hypocrites and nut-bars. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t religion/God that was the problem? Maybe it was the people. I thought about this for months.

 

Then one night, in the Fall of ’97, I had what some would call an epiphany. The religious would call it a “revelation from God”. I call it a momentary lapse of reason during a time of severe depression.

 

I considered and then concluded that what I was “missing” from my life was “God”. I was 37-years old and figured I had made a mess of things with selfish pursuits and a hate-filled outlook on life. So I figured that it was time for a change. I’d “clean up my act.” I put aside my guns, knives and my plans for a massive killing spree, ending in suicide (no joke), and instead picked up a Bible. If I wanted to be any good to my sons, then a radical change was called for. I’d try the ONE thing I’d been avoiding all my life…religion.

 

I started by skimming a Good News Catholic Bible I picked up while at work. I began with easy reading from Proverbs and the Wisdom of Sirach. [Yep, the good old Apocrypha. Banned by your finer Baptist and Protestant churches.] I found myself strangely moved by some of the wisdom therein. I even began putting some of the verses into practice in my life. Everything started looking up for me. I couldn’t believe that being “religious” could be so satisfying. (Bah! I almost vomited on the keyboard typing that sentence!)

 

[Note for the record: I had NOT yet read the REST of the bible. Only the Proverbs and Sirach. The horror stories and contradictions of Old and New Testament had not yet come to my attention. Hell, I still didn’t know who “Jesus” was!]

 

I had “gotten religion”. And I was liking it. Maybe it was all the people screwing up the religions after all. So in September of ’97, in a fit of emotionalism, I decided that God was in fact real, and that I’d devote my life to seeking/serving “him”.

 

Pretty stupid, huh? No sermons. No witnessing. No message of hope from Campus Crusade for Christ. I just DECIDED, on my own, to follow God. (I think I’m going to be sick again.)

 

But if you think THAT was bad, you haven’t read anything yet. The only thing more asinine than my decision to become religious, was my method of choosing which religion to “join”.

 

I immediately eliminated all the “foreign” religions, because they were…, well…, ”foreign”, strange and just “not for me.” (Was my prejudice showing? Just a little bit, I suspect.)

 

I then turned my attention to the more “American” religions. The ones that have crosses involved. But then I ran into another dilemma. Which one of the 30,000 denominations should I join? I knew NOTHING about any of them. How was I to make a right decision?

 

Drawing on popular opinions, news events and how much sarcasm I used to heap upon any ONE preferred target, I eliminated the more odious ones. In other words, if they had a bad reputation, looked weird and I mocked them more than others in the past, then they were voted out of contention.

 

The Catholics, Seventh Day Adventists, Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses were eliminated instantly. No questions asked.

 

Next came the Baptists (all 100 versions!), Lutherans, Methodists, Presbyterians, Assembly of God, Church of Christ and Independent/non-denominational crowd.

 

I had heard ugly rumors about the Baptists and Protestants. Word on the street was that they weren’t much better than the Catholics. And the Pentecostals were reputed to be a tad bit “strange”. (At the time I didn’t know HOW strange, but I was soon to learn.)

 

So that left the Independents. But that still left me with a cast of thousands.

 

Finally, tired of the entire charade, I just settled on any church that called itself “Christian” in their title. I’d try them out first. If I didn’t like them, I could always leave.

 

I then let my “fingers do the walking” and picked a few to start with.

 

But, oh, I almost forgot! I was so ecstatic with my new found outlook on life and God that I believed that I was ready to “take on the day” and “be my kids’ dad”. [Dr. Laura catch phrases.] I contacted my ex-wife, explained myself, apologized, we reconciled, and then RE-MARRIED. Say what?!?!?!?!?!?

 

Yes, you read correctly. Somehow, (I called it a “miracle” back then. In retrospect, I now call it dumb-ass gas, combined with black magic.) we set aside our differences and got together again “for the sake of the children”. Absolutely amazing.

 

During the upcoming months I would use these events to impress the rubes during “Testimony Time,” to show what the “power of God” could do for your life. I was every Pastor’s wet dream come true. “Evil atheist, Satanist, divorced and self-destructive sociopath, turned around by the Love, Power and Grace of Gawd! Hallelujah!”

 

Man, oh man, it was a crazy-assed time. Re-married and “Christian”. Anyone who knew the “old evil me” was simply floored by my turn around. Everyone knew that I was the next Vegas odds-on favorite to go down in infamy with Manson, the Uni-bomber and the Son of Sam. And now THIS! Wow.

 

However, before anyone gets too far ahead of me, I need to remind you that at NO TIME during this “miraculous turn-around” had I EVER “repented of my sins”, “made Jesus Christ Lord of my life”, “confessed my sins”, “been baptized” nor “been born again.” At this point in time I didn’t even KNOW these were requirements to being “Christian”. I just thought one had to believe in God, be a “good person” and go to church where the crosses hung out. I didn’t know any better.

 

And NO ONE corrected this deficiency in my knowledge. Not once did anyone question or challenge my “Christianity”. I simply started calling myself one, and everyone accepted it as fact. (I think my family was just happy that I was no longer a threat to society. Why fuck with a good thing?)

 

Eventually, after attending church for 5-6 months, I accidentally got baptized. I had been attending New Membership classes on Sundays, since I was new to the church. But what they didn’t realize was that I was new to the FAITH also. Everyone simply assumed I had been baptized.

 

Well, one Wednesday afternoon I happened to saunter into the church to find the assistant pastor, Jeff, filling the baptismal pool. We got to talking about it when I told him that I hadn’t been baptized. He was suitably amazed. He then asked me if I wanted to be included in the Wednesday night dunk ritual. I said sure. So he pencilled me in and told me to bring my trunks and a towel. And THAT is how I got “born again”. What a joke.

 

Do you see what I meant by “coming in through a side window”?

 

“Jesus Christ? Who’s that? Oh, you mean that crucified fellow? Yeah, I saw him hanging over the altar. What of it?”

 

This is why I say that I was NEVER a True Christian™? I did EVERYTHING ass backwards. I never heard the Gospel. I never repented of my sins. My baptism was a joke. (The Pastor sat OUTSIDE the tub, interviewing each person like Richard Dawson on Family Feud™! I always did feel cheated by this.) However, when I finally DID learn all of this stuff, I accomplished them dutifully. I wanted to be the best Christian that I could be. I wanted to be rid of the old, evil me in the worst way possible, and I figured that religion was my best and only method to remain free of the darkness.

 

Which is how the church keeps converts. They convince you that you need god and Jesus to turn your life around, and God’ll keep the “devil” away from you.

 

Well, to THAT bit of sophistry, I now cry BULLSHIT! "God"/"Jesus" had absolutely nothing to do with turning my life around. That was all me! I DID IT. No Holy Ghost, no Jesus. Just me and an iron determination to fix my own mess. But like an idiot (Christian), I gave god all the glory and all the credit.

 

Then I gave him my tithes and my devoted servitude. Oh joy.

[Taphophilia]

I understand what it's like to be married to someone you hate. I used to have fantisies of killing my ex or at the very least him dying, a grusome painful death along the lines of a slow disembowelment. If there is a hell then eternal punishment for me would have to be married to him again.

 

Don't feel bad, I left my ex more than once and went back. We all make stupid mistakes in our lives.

 

Taph

[jrmarlin]

Please, Taph... I didn't thin about my ex dying a grusome death... I thought about his funeral. What I would wear to the funeral. Flirting at the funeral... Then I could date after the funeral...

[Taphophilia]

Please, Taph... I didn't thin about my ex dying a grusome death... I thought about his funeral. What I would wear to the funeral. Flirting at the funeral... Then I could date after the funeral...

 

I have since realised that if you are in a relationship and wish the person dead, it's time to move on.

 

Taph

[Checkmate]

Please, Taph... I didn't thin about my ex dying a grusome death... I thought about his funeral. What I would wear to the funeral. Flirting at the funeral... Then I could date after the funeral...

 

I have since realised that if you are in a relationship and wish the person dead, it's time to move on.

 

Taph

Whew, ain't THAT the truth! Why do I get the feeling that we've inadvertently stumbled into juicy new thread material? When I finish unloading on this one, maybe I'll begin the "Help! I'm Married And I Can't Get Out!" Thread.

[Taphophilia]

Please, Taph... I didn't thin about my ex dying a grusome death... I thought about his funeral. What I would wear to the funeral. Flirting at the funeral... Then I could date after the funeral...

 

I have since realised that if you are in a relationship and wish the person dead, it's time to move on.

 

Taph

Whew, ain't THAT the truth! Why do I get the feeling that we've inadvertently stumbled into juicy new thread material? When I finish unloading on this one, maybe I'll begin the "Help! I'm Married And I Can't Get Out!" Thread.

 

I think it should be titled, "Relationship horror stories".

 

Taph

[Checkmate]

Part Three – “And the truth shall make you free.”

 

In the beginning, surprisingly enough, church life suited me.

 

I was quickly accepted and welcomed. I met many interesting people and had a few friends. No one in the church was my enemy. My family was virtually regarded as the crown jewel of my church’s crown. [sidebar: The wife had long ago dropped her Seventh Day Adventist habit, and was now enjoying pork again. How real can anything be, if you can turn it on and off like a light switch?] We were greatly respected and beloved by all. I was reading my bible, learning much and having a grand old time.

 

Even life in the military had become more tolerable. Situations and troubles that heretofore would have vexed me and sent me into an uncontrollable rage, rolled off me like water off a duck’s back. I was pleasant and affable. A downright joy to be around. Instead of causing grief, I was actually defusing problems.

 

Wow. This church/God-stuff was al-right. I believed I had finally found my niche in life.

 

I’d probably still be a willing, obedient soldier for Christ to this day had it not been for ONE SLIGHT PROBLEM.

 

I never got a lobotomy.

 

No matter how hard I tried I could never get the Cynic in me to shut up and go away. He nagged and dogged my heels during my entire church career. No matter how Gullible I wanted to be, Cynic would not allow it.

 

The Gullible Me would strap on religious blinders and rose-colored glasses, and the Cynical Me would march up and snatch them off, calling attention to yet ANOTHER problem I was trying to ignore.

 

Problems such as:

 

MONEY. Tithes and offerings. The Prosperity or Health and Wealth Gospel. It absolutely never ceased to amaze me how much and how often sermons and services were dedicated to the collection of MONEY. The promotion of Prosperity. I got the impression that God was in competition with Merrill Lynch or something.

 

To my naïve, new “Christian” mind, this appeared WRONG. Here I was, all prepared to sell everything I had, give to the poor, and take up my cross to “follow Christ” into the world, and the other Christians were setting up “Jesus” style IRAs and 401K plans! WTF?

 

EVANGELISM. Or rather, the LACK of it. According to my reading of the scriptures, I thought that Christians should have been out in force preaching. Instead they were content that they had their Gospel ticket punched, waiting at the Rapture Bus Stop. My first church was so much like a Country Club that it sometimes made me ill.

 

MILITARY SERVICE. The dichotomy of the “Christian soldier” was forever a bugaboo for me, since I was IN the Air Force. Try as I might I could not reconcile being Christian and supporting WAR. Tertullian said, “When Christ disarmed Peter he disarmed the entire church.” I agreed. I did not like the idea of a bible in one hand and a gun in the other. Yet the church was historically and presently violent.

 

TAXES. Didn’t Jesus AND St. Paul agree that the church should obey the government and PAY their taxes? Then WHY was the church operating tax-free?

 

WORLDINESS. Again, according to MY reading of scripture, earth and earthly things/concerns should be a thing of the past for believers. And yet everyone I knew was totally enamored of this world and the things of this world. Entertainment, politics, social engineering, INVESTMENTS, etc., etc., were very much a part of the Christian Sub-culture. Christians obviously weren’t interested in LEAVING the world. They just wanted to create their OWN version of a “Christian” world.

 

DENOMINATIONALISM. Prior to me joining the church, I made note of the MANY different denominations. If I was confused before, I was apoplectic now! It boggled my mind how all of these people could CLAIM to be reading the same Bible, and yet create so many different doctrines and beliefs. And each one called the other ones HERETICS. This made NO SENSE. What happened to “One Lord, one faith, one baptism”? Just one more thing to ignore, I suspect.

 

The HOLY BIBLE. Now THIS was the Big One. It is supposed to be THE Word of God, and yet it has more holes in it than Swiss Cheese. It reads like a bad Grimm’s Fairy tale, and yet everyone is supposed to take it seriously. And to add insult to injury, the church is forever squabbling over WHICH Holy Bible™ is the True Holy Bible™. Because depending on WHICH book you read, you can support and validate YOUR treasured doctrine/dogma, thus disproving your enemy’s doctrine/dogma.

 

Good grief.

 

Other problems are outgrowths from the Bible and doctrinal differences, such as the deity of Christ, the Virgin Birth, the teachings of Christ, the Trinity, Baptism(s), Salvation, Faith vs Works, Prayer, Miracles, Prophecy, Spiritual Gifts, the Doctrine of Hell, the Rapture and what have you.

 

There is enough bullshit to hide a hundred sperm whales.

 

Yet it was my task to BELIEVE all of this tripe. Hence the rose-colored glasses and the blindfold. You can’t very well walk by faith if you can see, now can you?

 

At first, believing was easy. I just never thought about what I was reading, or hearing. No matter how foolish it all sounded, I convinced myself that “God” was right and I was wrong.

 

The church has a teaching that says, “If ever your mind disagrees with the word of God, then it is YOU that is wrong, not the Bible. Pray that the Lord grant you wisdom to understand His word.”

 

I bought into that teaching. I mean, who wouldn’t? Particularly when you’ve been convinced that to question or doubt is the same as unbelief. And unbelief is THE Sin that will drop you into Hell. Didn’t want THAT to happen, did we?

 

Besides, in spite of all of the foolishness, contradictions and outright errors, hadn’t God “saved” me? Wasn’t my life better because of what He has done for me? God simply HAD to be real, and His Word HAD to be right, and His church had to be legitimate, or else my faith was in vain. And I did NOT want to believe that!

 

I needed Jesus and the church. The WORLD needed Jesus and the church. And I was going to do everything in my power to see the World come to Jesus.

 

[Just allow me to adjust my blindfold. I ALMOST saw something that made me question my faith. Whew! That was close.]

 

For four years and through two churches I played this game of make believe. As I “grew in the Lord”, learning more and more about Christianity, it became more difficult to ignore the problems I had with it. Every new chapter, each new doctrine, every different sermon brought with them more questions and renewed doubts. And each time it got harder to suppress and ignore them.

 

My Cynicism was gaining in strength and my Gullibility was getting sickly.

 

They say that Ignorance is Bliss. Well, that is absolutely true in matters of religion. So long as I was ignorant of what the church believed, then I was fine. I could ride the emotional waves with ease. But as soon as I got educated, play time was over.

 

[sidebar: I get a giggle when church leaders lament about the crisis of Biblical Illiteracy amongst Christians. “Christians don’t know their bibles,” they cry. They should be relieved. Knowing the bible is precisely how I got out of Christianity!]

 

As I said before, in the first four years I went through two churches. The first was mildly Charismatic. The second was Hyper-Charismatic. The difference between a Country Club and a Circus.

 

My first church was obsessed with Prosperity and that got on my Super Spiritual nerves. In the time I was with them I became convinced that God wanted me to be an Evangelist/Missionary. And since they weren’t helping me attain my goals, I left them behind. “Away with your money-grubbery! I have souls to save!”

 

I was SO whacked out for Jesus, it was disgusting. I had a huge Xian library of books and video/audio tapes. I had probably the largest "Jesus" T-shirt collection in America. I was so bold (offensive) that I would "witness" for Jesus anywhere at the drop of a dime. And I ALMOST ended my 15-year military service, foregoing any retirement pay, just to go into full-time Christian ministry. With NO training, and NO experience, and NO money, I was about to “trust Jesus” and just GO.

 

I didn’t do it, though. Some nagging doubt kept me from making such a drastic commitment.

 

[i suppose Cynical Me had had about enough of THAT shit, and clubbed Gullibility Me into unconsciousness, until I came to my senses.]

 

So I left church number one, and stumbled into church number two, Bozo’s Circus.

 

I found this place by following some friends from the first church here. They were a small outfit, but boy did they have spirit! Exuberant singing, dancing, rumping around, falling on the floor and shaking like epileptics. People prophesying and seeing visions of angels and Jesus in dreams. All the stuff that would make Benny Hinn, Oral Roberts and John Wimber proud.

 

I was scared and a little put off at first, as I thought I had stumbled into an insane asylum. (I had, but I didn’t KNOW it at the time.) But apparently my Gullibility had regained consciousness and he said that I shouldn’t be so judgmental. What did I know? After all, I was New. This could be the Real Christianity that I was searching for.

 

So I stayed. Then I joined them. My wife assured me that their behavior wasn’t uncommon. She had done such things herself. [“Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!”]

 

Just what did that ringing in my ears and that burning sensation at the back of my skull indicate? Who knows? Maybe I was coming down with the flu. I’ll have someone pray for me. They’re good at that here.

 

Anyway, my new church life had begun. And just like with the first church, we fit in and I progressed nicely. Even though my doubts and questions seemed to grow exponentially with my knowledge, I kept plugging forth. I figured that if I remained faithful, then God would fill in the missing puzzle pieces and I would be blessed.

 

Yet, it was not to be.

 

The Pastor of this church took me under his wing, and groomed me for Eldership. I was called upon to preach and teach with regularity. To that end, I had to become even MORE knowledgeable of Christianity, and so I increased my studies.

 

Unfortunately, for my Pastor, this increased knowledge came with a price. The more I learned, the more I was convinced that Pentecostalism/Charismania (everything this church stood for) was WRONG. Total BS.

 

Time and again I found myself arguing with him about church practices. Time and again I found myself counseling people to do the OPPOSITE of what the Pastor taught. Time and again I found myself abstaining from church activities and services, because I could not support them.

 

I stayed in that church for two years. Going back and forth. Agreeing one day, and disagreeing the next.

 

In this church it was a Big Deal to be “submitted” to the authority over you. And if you ever wanted people to be submitted to YOUR authority in the future, then you had to submit in the present. Follow without question the ministry headship. God would bless and honor your obedience if you did this.

 

And we all know how badly I wanted to please God, right?

 

So, eventually, I just shut up and colored. (Being in the military helped me to comprehend this concept, so this wasn’t new to me.) But I never did like it.

 

I suppose you can say that my reluctant performance and obedience was sufficient, since the Pastor kept training me for Eldership. And in October of 2002, they held a big ceremony. Church leaders were invited from around the city, and my Pastor’s boss [The “Apostle”, I shit you not.] came in from out of town to “set me in as an Elder.” People laid hands on me, prayed and prophesied over me, and the next thing you know, I was an “Elder”.

 

Good fucking grief, Charlie Brown.

 

Now, I’m certain why, but being made officially an Elder really got under my skin. I felt like a sellout. Was I REALLY going to be an Official Spokesman for Ideas and Beliefs that I DIDN’T believe? (This question will later repeat itself. Watch for it.)

 

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t!

 

I started seriously thinking about leaving this church. And it was going to cause a LOT more grief than leaving the first one. I was nobody at that one. I was SOMEBODY here. Someone people looked up to, trusted and admired. Fuck, but this was going to suck.

 

It was December of ’02, barely two months after I had become an Elder. The Pastor was heavily into his new ideas of preaching the “Same Fucking Message Every Service Until He Believed Everyone GOT IT”, and “Everybody MUST agree and shout Amen! To Everything The Pastor Says.” [Thus sayeth the Lord, or else you will “miss the blessing.”]

 

Uh…yeah. Can you say “the last straw”?

 

I was fucking done. I didn’t much care WHAT God was trying to teach me through all of this, but I was dropping out of THIS class post-fucking-haste! I had tolerated more than enough of my share of bullshit. I had looked the other way on too many occasions. Now this fucker was ordering me to actually give myself a spiritual lobotomy?!?

 

Oh, hell no.

 

[Cynical Me sounds out a raspberry and flips Gullibility the Bird.]

 

And so, in December ’02, the very week before X-mas, no less, I gave the Pastor notice that I was done with the church. There is NEVER a “good time” to break up with someone, but this was a particularly “bad time”.

 

The church was already losing members due to recent gripes, and the Pastor had called a special elders’ meeting to discuss his New Vision for the Church (again). It was before THIS meeting that I decided to drop The Bomb.

 

It sucked as much as I knew it would. Breaking off a church relationship has the same feel as divorcing your spouse. Everyone is hurt and betrayed. Everyone demands answers, and pleads with you to change your mind. And THEN it gets ugly.

 

The more determined and obstinate I became, the nastier the Pastor became. I think if I didn’t have the other elders there as witnesses he would have spit in my face and called me a nigger. He was THAT pissed.

 

But I kept my calm and let him wind down. When I knew he was spent I made my final good-byes, and he made his final “Prophecy” over my life.

 

He said, “If you leave out of that door like this, you will NEVER join another church. You’ll just keep wandering and searching, never finding what you’re looking for.” We stood silently for a moment or two. He was self-righteously indignant, and I was mildly amused. I suppose this was to count as a “threat”.

 

Whatever. I just smiled, waved good-bye to everyone, and walked out the door.

 

But you know what? That fucker was right! I never did join another church and I never did find the “god” that I was looking for. Imagine that.

 

Okay. Time to get down to brass tacks.

 

It’s now 2003, and I’m church-less. But I’m still a believer. So what do I do? I was frankly tired of trusting church people to show me the way. They didn’t know the way to San Jose, let alone the way to God.

 

Then it occurred to me. There was an independent research and resource tool right at the click of a mouse button. Ye olde Internet. I had used it before to check things out, why not let THAT become my new church home as well?

 

And so I did just that. I also floated around from church to church, NEVER joining, but keeping in touch with humanity while I taught myself ALL ABOUT CHRISTIANITY and WORLD RELIGIONS via the internet.

 

Oh my goodness. Talk about your eye-openers! Now that I was a free agent, Lone Ranger™ Christian I was seeing for the first time the filthy underbelly of the church exposed. I read and downloaded critique after critique of Christian doctrines and practices. And they all were from Christian web sites! Christians judging Christians. Who needs the Secular Web?

 

But since I still wanted to be a Christian, I did more than look for the bad. I searched for the good, as well.

 

I began listening to internet sermons covering every conceivable topic. For a while there I was even mired in Fundamentalism. I gave the Fundies the benefit of a doubt since they hated Charismatics as much as I did. [“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”] I accepted much of what I read and heard in sermons.

 

But it didn’t take me long to recognize that Fundamentalism was cruel and even sadistic. They were just as bad as their Charismatic counterparts. So I dropped Fundy-ism like a bad habit and continued my search for Truth.

 

I found many sources for Early Christian beliefs, specifically from a man named David Bercot. He, too, had been through the ringer of belief and had determined that the Anabaptists came closest to embodying the spirit of Christ and holding to the Early Church beliefs.

 

I sunk much time into Mr. Bercot’s books and CDs. He had a fresh and honest appraisal about Christianity and religion, and I was greatly interested. And for a while there it seemed that I was going to follow in his footsteps, and become an Anabaptist. I even made plans to convert my home into a Home Church. I created a name, logo and had a statement of faith all carved out. I was pumped up. I was going to do things right!

 

But then something amazing happened to me. It hit me in a flash while I was rehearsing my first mock sermon to an invisible audience.

 

I didn’t believe any of it. I REALLY didn’t. Not one single word of it.

 

I couldn’t. What the hell was I doing? I was trying to convince myself to accept obvious fairy tales as reality. It felt like I was waking up from a bad dream. And looking back on it, I couldn’t believe I took the dream seriously.

 

It then occurred to me that EVERYTHING that all so-called Christians had been doing, we had done ON OUR OWN. We were ALL making it up as we went along. THAT is why there were so many denominations. THAT is why even I was able to just create my own silly-ass church, complete with my own set of beliefs and doctrines. THAT is why NONE of it ever worked or lasted. THAT is why beliefs had to constantly change with the times. They changed with the people creating them! It’s all just a strong delusion that frightened people attempt to comfort themselves with.

 

Anyone with a bible and the will to bullshit others could do this! All of your more charismatic cult leaders do it. I did NOT believe any of this stuff. Was I REALLY going to be an Official Spokesman for Ideas and Beliefs that I DIDN’T believe?

 

NONE OF IT WAS TRUE. And no amount of wishing it was was going to change this fact for me.

 

I mulled this thought over for weeks. I kept waiting for God to open up the heavens and strike me, or open up the earth and swallow me.

 

Nothing. Not a thing.

 

I got comfortable with my unbelief. I put every bible and resource away. I just sat and thought about the whole deal. About how absolutely ridiculous it all was. I thought about how and why so many BILLIONS of other people believed all of this, and I didn’t. They HAD to see and experience that same stuff I did. How could they NOT see? Was there something in the water?

 

Was I still missing something? What made me so different? Was there something wrong with me?

 

I finally concluded that I was fine. I came by my unbelief honestly and naturally. I hadn’t been trying to leave. I was trying to stay. My natural and innate Cynicism had just matured into Rational Skepticism. It just took awhile for Common Sense to get a secure foothold and kick into gear.

 

Why had it taken so long? Why couldn’t I reach this conclusion earlier? Why had I wasted so much time with this?

 

I think it has everything to do with being in Church. So long as you’re surrounded by the church “support system”, they will KEEP you believing. You’re encouraged to believe, NOT to think. It’s intimidating. Particularly when you’re constantly warned that doubting and questioning is a sure ticket to Hell.

 

But once I quit going to church I was on my own to think as I pleased. No pressure and no traps. [ironically, THIS is precisely what Pastors fear the most when the sheep quit coming to church. That’s why they hold weekly services. No to teach you, but to KEEP you.]

 

So for the first time, in a LONG time, I felt truly Free. No oppressive religious weights. No guilt. No fear. No manipulation. Just me and my shadow.

 

And lookie, lookie, I didn’t transform into a raging Hulk and go on a killing spree. More proof positive that it was MY self-effort that had brought about change in my life, not “god”. Had it been “god” and his “power” that kept me “moral”, then I should have returned to my natural state the moment I left him. Wouldn’t you think?

 

However, I am less likely today to kill and maim, than I was BEFORE I got “saved”. Imagine that.

 

So, once again, in the auspicious month of December 2004, two years after I quit attending church, I officially became an apostate. I was done with Christianity for good.

 

Now for the fun part. Telling the wife and family the “good news”.

 

(See the thread BREAKING THE "BAD" NEWS.)

 

I tried for a few weeks to hold onto god-belief, but to no avail. I just couldn’t believe any more. I had no reason to believe. So in Feb ’05 I settled comfortably into atheism. And I’ve been a rabid atheist ever since.

 

What does my family think? My mother is in denial and stubbornly insists that I still believe in god and will return to “Jesus”. Hah! Don’t hold your breath.

 

My wife’s first reaction was to think this meant I wanted to divorce her again. [Remember, one reason I returned to her was my god-belief.] I assured her that I wouldn’t divorce her because of atheism. [i’ve got plenty of REAL reasons to divorce her rather than resorting to atheism! ] So now she just ignores “the evil atheist” and we don’t talk about religion anymore.

 

So there you have it. My odyssey from Cynic to “Christian” to Atheism. It ends ironically enough, precisely how it all began. Without much fanfare, but with a sudden revelation and an “A-Ha!” moment. I got myself into this mess, and I got myself out. How appropriate.

 

 

Thanks for reading.

 

fin

[Evelyn]

Wow, Mr. Grinch, wow, what a story! Whew! You are a great writer!

 

I loved the section on the church that was "Bozo's circus"! Very similar to the small fundy church my husband and I joined after he became an xian and I came back, briefly, to xianity. Whew!

 

Glad you're out, glad I'm out, yeehaw!

 

Freedom is wonderful!

[SkepticOfBible]

Then it occurred to me. There was an independent research and resource tool right at the click of a mouse button. Ye olde Internet. I had used it before to check things out, why not let THAT become my new church home as well?

 

Praise the internet!!!!

 

If the internet would not have been there I would have turned into a fundie Xtian myself. Internet "saved" me from the meme of Xtianity. If there is a god out there, I thank him/her/it/

[Lizard]

Wow, Grinchy..I decided to click the link in your siggy, and am glad I did! Awesome telling of return to rationality. Took me 23 years..

[Checkmate]

Wow, Grinchy..I decided to click the link in your siggy, and am glad I did! Awesome telling of return to rationality. Took me 23 years..

Thanks, Lizard! Glad you enjoyed it.

[Everglaze]

Yeah, I clicked the link too haha. That was a great story. It was probably the best way to describe the experience. It was just a feel-good self-help therapy cult where everything was in the mind. The only way I'd have been able to regain my sanity was to break away from the church and its "fellowship." Good thing I didn't like the people and was too lazy to find another church. That gave me enough time to think with my own head! As for the church? They continue to keep you believing as long as you're there in church. That's why people have always tried to drag me into that unhealthy environment, because they were all brainwashed. It's disgusting.

[R. S. Martin]

Mr. Grinch, I read your story in one sitting. Fascinating. I'm trying to understand what actually happened on the psychological level. You most definitely made a major change in your life. You turned your life around through the church. Was it the positive experience of being with people who cared for you? Was it your personal focus on self-care? I really liked the way you described trusting the church. I was born into the church and appropriately baptized as a teenager. There were a lot of things that made no sense to me such as how salvation was supposed to work when I never committed any sin. My understanding of sin was to intentionally do something wrong. I never did that. How does one repent when one never sins? Major problem but I really had no choice. My social universe consisted of the church community. Leaving was not an option at the time. Not getting baptized was not an option, either, because if you don't get baptized at the appropriate age the social pressure gets strong and you get ostracized. You're just not a legitimate part of the community. So I went through with it believing and trusting that as I got older I would understand. Everyone said it would work that way.

 

Just the other night I had a conversation with my sister about this. She wanted me to confess that I had changed my beliefs from what they used to be. I couldn't really say I had because I had never really believed. I told her that I always trusted that when I got older I would understand. I told her that when I got forty it seemed I should be old enough to understand. She did not agree.

 

Whew! When I'm young they say I'll understand when I get older. I hang around a couple decades and get older. Then I'm told we can't expect to understand. I don't understand why the message keeps shifting. Seems the whole thing is geared to keep you off-balance and under control. But like you, Mr. Grinch, I made the fatal mistake of not getting a lobotomy done. So anyway, thanks for telling your story in all it's grueling honesty.

[Checkmate]

Mr. Grinch, I read your story in one sitting. Fascinating. I'm trying to understand what actually happened on the psychological level. You most definitely made a major change in your life. You turned your life around through the church. Was it the positive experience of being with people who cared for you? Was it your personal focus on self-care?...........

Hi RubySera.

 

While I wouldn't go so far as to admit that I "turned my life around through the church", I will say that they did provide a positive community for me to work out my "demons." For that, I am grateful. Yet, I would have to say my turn around was mostly self-care/self-effort, combined with a supportive atmosphere. Precisely the same mechanics that enable the recovering addict during rehab.

 

I'm often quick to point out, before any Christian tries to blow the horn for Christ, that my success story is not unique to Christianity. Mormons, Muslims, Hindus, AA, Drug Rehab and psychotherapists can ALL boast that they have helped people turn lives around. And note for the record that I was already in the process of changing BEFORE I "came to Christ". So no "prayers" nor the "miracle" of the "shed blood of Jesus" had anything to do with things.

 

It really is too bad that the church is so psychotic, because as a helpful community they CAN be a force for great good. If they could simply divest themselves of the perverse need to embrace myths and superstitions and become more humanistic, (man-centered and not god-centered) then they could be a shining beacon of hope.

[TruthWarrior]

Pretty stupid, huh? No sermons. No witnessing. No message of hope from Campus Crusade for Christ. I just DECIDED, on my own, to follow God. (I think I’m going to be sick again.)

 

But you said that you were influenced by Dr Laura's naggings.. so you were still witnessesed/sermonized/brainwashed too. Even if you heard no one else preach and decided to believe just from reading the bible, thats still you being prosetylized by ancient propaganda.

 

But if you think THAT was bad, you haven’t read anything yet. The only thing more asinine than my decision to become religious, was my method of choosing which religion to “join”.

 

Hehe, my mind was a wreck trying to choose which "true church" to join. I ended up narrowing down the choices (and my mind) and joined Church of Christ church. They think everyone not in their church and baptized properly is going to hell. I ended up getting booted into the abyss for believing in theistic evolution.

 

But we all got brainwashed or just misled/conned in some way or another. I researched everything for quite some time all by myself and still came to believe christianity was the only way. But like as you said "I never got a lobotomy", and am always the skeptic.

 

I think the main reason people believe and stay in christianity is because of the eternal hell belief. I think hell is really the central part of fundamentalist belief, not Jesus. They rejoice that they're not going to hell and rejoice that all their enemies are. Now where's the love and forgiveness in that? Had they not believed in eternal hell, they'd be a hell of a lot nicer, exhibitting "the fruits" that they were supposed to have. The senseless fear wouldn't be there. The cause of all the evils of christianity (witch burnings, progoms, iquisitions, crusades, etc) wouldn't be there.

[R. S. Martin]

While I wouldn't go so far as to admit that I "turned my life around through the church", I will say that they did provide a positive community for me to work out my "demons." For that, I am grateful. Yet, I would have to say my turn around was mostly self-care/self-effort, combined with a supportive atmosphere. Precisely the same mechanics that enable the recovering addict during rehab.

 

Thanks for the clarification. I think that is what I meant. Just didn't get the words right and didn't catch the detail that you had already been in the process of change. I really like how you claim the credit for turning your life around. I turned my life around, too, and I feel like I did it on my own strength, insight, and risks. I'm supposed to take responsibility for when things don't work out, rather than blame God. I think rules/principles have to work both ways IF they work at all. Well, the principle that it's my fault when things don't work out (I have to take responsibility) should correspond with "when things do work out I get the credit." It's not "God's doing" all of a sudden.

 

I confess that I was a real confused mess when I made all those big decisions. I was aware that with my intellect I seriously doubted the existence of God and was forever talking very rebelliously re God. But when life got tough and the risks were huge I found myself praying and trusting God to make it work out. I still don't know for sure how to explain things, where I got the strength to take the risks, etc. if God doesn't exist.

 

i guess at this point it's just not important whether or not God exists. I take responsibiity for my life and how it turns out. I check out all the options, I weigh all the pros and cons, I decide what risks to take or not take, I arrive at a decision I am prepared to live with no matter what the outcome. If God played some invisible and unknowable role in the process, fine. If not, I did all the hard work myself so who cares?

 

Am I ever glad I found this place where it's okay to be mad at God!

 

And yes, it's been the Christian church with its schools that provided me with the environment to recuperate and heal from all the terrible wounds inflicted by another arm of that very same "body." The "body of Christ" is a very "interesting" concept or entity. One church inflicts all the wounds. Another church provides the healing environment. And they're all Christians. I am quite sure if I didn't have such major problems with the theology I would be a Christian. According to some definitions I am a Christian. According to others I'm not. I am who I am. Huh??? Who said that??? Wasn't that what God said to Moses?

[Checkmate]

Hey RubySera,

 

This little talk reminds me that Christians often say, "Pray as if everything depended on God, but work as if everything depended on you."

 

This is their tacit admission that you'd better do it yourself, because there is no God around to help you. Sort of like Ben Franklin's saying of "God helps those who help themselves." (Which SOME Christians think is a Bible verse! )

 

Which all dovetails neatly with another church teaching I heard years ago. They said that God won't do anything for you, UNTIL you first begin to do something. God doesn't WANT to do it all for you. Everything is a co-operative effort. When you begin to move, that's when God joins you and grants you the strength. If you sit around and wait for God to do something on your behalf, He won't! You must take the lead.

 

 

WTF?!? This is nothing less than Christians admitting that EVERYTHING we accomplish is done in our own strength, and "God" is simply given the credit for what we achieve. Of course, if we fail then that is OUR fault, not His. What utter and obscene bullcrap. I am SO glad that I managed to escape the looney bin! That's just the sort of pretzel logic that would have screwed me up for life.

[R. S. Martin]

Part Three – “And the truth shall make you free.”........

 

 

I’d probably still be a willing, obedient soldier for Christ to this day had it not been for ONE SLIGHT PROBLEM.

 

I never got a lobotomy.

 

No matter how hard I tried I could never get the Cynic in me to shut up and go away. He nagged and dogged my heels during my entire church career. No matter how Gullible I wanted to be, Cynic would not allow it.

 

I'm reading this story again. I love it. Don't apologize to anyone for failing to overcome Cynicism. Even me, a person who was BORN into the church--and carefully insulated from the influence of "strange doctrine" and expertly trained how to resist that which could not be avoided--could not figure out how to twist my brain to accept the inconsistencies. (No drunk father or lax mother in my case. Both were--and remain--zealous for the faith.)

 

Such psychological miracles can only be attributed to God, but before you can attribute anything to God, God must exist. And this very existence is what has never been proven to me. One more person tried his best yesterday. Sounded impressive enough but other explanations exist for the mystical stuff he talked about not excluding human fantasy and self-deception. Besides, when we got really deep into stuff I found myself seeing very human limitations even greater than my own.

 

I wasn't sure whether to bring this to his attention but that might look like I was bragging. In the end I just stop talking. I figured I'd put myself out there for him to see and if he couldn't see who/what I was perhaps it's best not to mention my "special gifts." Glad I didn't.

 

Wasn't your regular evangelical because I never talk to them. This was some new-fangled spirituality that I found very attractive until I found myself being defined incorrectly by someone who won't be corrected. There was a Mr. Know-it-all beneath all those dazzling layers of spirituality.

 

So Mr. Grinch, don't be hard on yourself for failing to lose your Cynicism. I think there's some wisdom in Jesus' story about the buried talent. I was raised with the maxim: You're given a good brain for a purpose. Use it!

 

They just didn't mean for me to use it as good as I did. Too bad. Jesus also said to figure the costs before you invest in a major project. If people strategize to raise children "in the way they should go," and to teach these same children to use their brains for what brains are to be used for, perhaps they should consider that said kids might see into things said parents don't want them to see.

 

This is just me mulling over how come I turned out so different from all my siblings. The most logical place I reach for is unknown ancestory about five generations back. Maybe there's some obscure gene hidden somewhere deep down. I wouldn't know. Actually, my great-grandfather (whose ancestory is pretty vague and who married a person of even vaguer ancestory) is still talked about for his strangeness. He's been dead for fifty years. All the same, maybe I inherited something from him. That's what I tell myself.

[garrisonjj]

This will be around the third time that I will attempt to relate my “spiritual journey” through the then I couldn’t care less.

 

Somewhminefield of Christianity. Will this one

 

All a lifetime of religion ever did for me was fuck me up. I agree, the hypocrite bible bangers who are scum all week except when they find jjjeeezus sSunday. It's now nice to say I don'tgive a godamnfuck about god or religion. Henceforth, I have more energy and clear thinking and I'll stand up my morals to anyone. Thanks and best wishes!