NYQueens977
Member
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2020
- Messages
- 82
I'm done. I've been spoon fed christianity since I was in diapers, and I was a devout christian since before I was in my teens. If you would've asked me to either spit on a Bible or die, I would've gladly chose I'm done. I've been spoon fed christianity since I was in diapers, and I was a devout christian since before I was in my teens. If you would've asked me to either spit on a Bible or die, I would've gladly chosen death. But now things don't make sense anymore. Prepare yourself, this is going to be a long one.
It first started when I was in 11th grade. I met a boy, James, and he was the atheist in the christian school. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he relished in the attention he got. People made fun of him, constantly telling him that God isn't dead, asking him where morals come from (in a condescending sort of way), and I vividly remember someone telling him that he was going to Hell. He didn't care. He only used those types of reactions to fuel his own ideas of what christianity was, which was ugly, corrupt, perverse. I sought him out. Maybe I can be different. Maybe I can show him that not all christians are ignorant and condescending. I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things. For one thing, James wasn't a saint in this scenario either. He was condescending, constantly looking down on Christians for foolishly believing in an "imaginary sky daddy". He had arguments against the faith, valid arguments, but his execution was a mess, and it didn't help that English wasn't his first language. Despite all of that, I was friends with him. I was able to hold my own against his arguments, and we shared a common interest in anime and webtoons, so we had other things to talk about aside from our differing world views. My point is, in 11th grade, that was when I first developed my interest in Christian apologetics. I figured that there will be others like James who will criticize the Christian faith, and I felt the calling to defend it to my last breath.
1 Peter 3: 15 "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
12th grade rolled around and I wasn't any better of an apologist than I was the year before. At that time, I was working on a passion project and that was all I could seem to think about, which was beginning to concern me. The book I was writing wasn't Christian. It wasn't anti-christian either, but I felt that it wouldn't hurt to have christian themes in the book. Maybe I could make a character a christian, or have a christian upbringing at least. Doing that, however, made me ask questions, and one question popped up that I didn't really have an answer to. One character, a Christian man, took in a girl from the streets who was 7 years younger and still in high school. I'd considered maybe adding some romantic chemistry for the drama, or maybe make the romance once sided on the man's part. But then I started thinking about cohabitation. The Bible isn't clear on the issue, which is no surprise. I mean, in the ancient world, women lived with their families until they were inevitably married off, so the idea of a woman and a man living together unmarried was practically unheard of. But times have changed. Now you would find people living together platonically out of financial necessity. Is that a sin? All my life I had believed that it was, but the Bible was completely silent on the issue. I eventually came to terms that sometimes it's better to play it safe if you want to save yourself until marriage, but it isn't a sin. But what else? What other ideas had I been spoon fed since birth that weren't necessarily true?
I went back into a research frenzy. I had opened my mind to the possibility that, just like with cohabitation, I may be wrong. Abortion? I can argue that all day. Homosexuality? Not in the way that you think. Cursing? Premarital sex? What did the Bible really say about these things? What did the verses actually say? Some of them were pretty cut and dry, others not so much. But I eventually came to a startling conclusion that shook my worldview.
How can a book that is supposedly timeless and divinely inspired be so, I don't know, vague? Wrong? I never denounced my faith. I didn’t have the courage to do so. Hell terrified me, and I could only pray to God to forgive me for my blasphemous thoughts.
After I graduated from my Christian school, I continued to go back to the Church side that was attached to my old school. So, yes, I saw old friends and colleagues, and I maintained the relationship I had with them. I worked unpaid at a cafe that was part of the church, and it was there that I saw the ugliest side of Christianity.
One woman who was a regular at the cafe was old. She was dressed practically rags, and yet she was still able to pay the cafe over $100 every Sunday for her sons, his friends, and naturally herself. This was odd, so naturally I asked my coworkers what the big deal was. Apparently, she was receiving checks from her husbands life insurance, and she used to checks to pay for her kids meals. After learning about this, it disgusted me, watching her eldest son buy the most expensive items in our menu for him and whoever he felt like treating that week, and I wasn’t alone. It eventually got to the point that my coworkers had to tell her to cut him off, as he was making her tab reach more than $200, and my coworkers and myself refused service to him. It was disgusting, and I could only blame the church for her mentality. The mentality to burn yourself out for the sake of others, putting more emphasis on loving others, making disciples, than loving yourself. Aside from that, no one knew how to do their jobs. Cutting corners and raising prices to fund whatever projects the church decided to take on, it was then that I decided to leave, but I couldn’t. It had been ingrained in me that I couldn’t just drop my stuff and leave, not without God’s permission. I felt sick, trapped, and stripped of my free will, although I didn’t put those feelings into words at that time.
It was only when my sister was getting bullied and sexually assaulted by the boys in her 5th grade class that I decided to leave. She was pulled out quickly, and I also cut all ties from my church with a sour taste in my mouth. The boys would would make jacking off motions towards her, threaten to rape her, and I’m more than certain that, with the churches strange fascination for the homeless in the community, the tutor for that private class was homeless himself, not even bothering to clean the smell of pee off of him before going to work.
I stopped going to church after that. Maybe I would step into the chapel for a service once in a blue moon, but even when I did, I was highly critical of the sermons. Was I a Christian at this time? I wasn’t sure. My upbringing told me that I was and will always be christian, even in times of struggle. But this was more than a struggle, but less fantastical than a mystical battle between the forces of light and darkness for my very soul. No, it was a period of doubt and skepticism that made me wonder, “maybe it’s not my fault that I can’t feel God like the others can”. Maybe, just maybe “there’s not God at all”. I once again prayed for forgiveness for my blasphemy and forced myself to read the Bible.
When I entered the college scene I felt underwhelmed. My christian upbringing told me that there will be constant struggle for my faith, that college professors will shove evolution down my throat, and that I’ll have to be especially brave to fight back the darkness. But there was nothing. I learned what I needed to learn with, as with everything at this point, skepticism. I got good grades, even made deans list one semester, and everything was going smoothly. I met a few oddballs here and there, but what else do you expect from a community college. I met my first boyfriend after my second semester.
I remember talking to him about the struggles I was having with my faith. He asked me if I was a Christian, and I was honest. I remember him telling me how he, as an atheist, will try to change my mind. That didn’t sit well with me, neither did the way he touched me. I remember telling him no. I remember pushing back, holding my shirt down while he tried to take it off, then complying when he ushered me to do so. I remember going home, crying and throwing up in the toilet, brushing my teeth the get the taste of him out of my mouth. I also remember cursing God how allowing that to happen to me, for making me so naive, weak, and stupid. It felt good to have someone to yell at other than myself, but then I felt stupid. That was the first time I felt like I was really just talking to the air.
I felt ashamed for what had happened to me, and couldn’t tell if it was my fault, or his, both of us, or if I was just being uptight. I mean, this happens all the time, so what was the big deal? Saying that didn’t make the ache go away, or the feeling of dread I had whenever I ran into him in school go away. I tried telling some friends, but one didn’t really know what to say, and the other one-upped me. I know she wasn’t trying to one-up me, but that’s how I felt. I felt alone. I tried to pray, but it felt tasteless. I joined an online Christian community. Maybe they had the answers. They didn’t. When I finally got an answer from them, they told me that it was my mistake. That I was tempted, and I failed. I didn’t know what to expect from them, but I didn’t want to hear that. I felt sick all over again. I could feel his hands all over me, and my heart squeezing in my chest. Maybe if I was more firm with what I wanted, maybe if I said no louder, we would still be dating. Maybe I’ll have more friends through him, or maybe I’ll be happy. But no, all because I failed the test, because I fell into temptation, I had to pay the price. It hurts all the more knowing that he’s moved on, met other girls, and is living his life in ignorant bliss. I hate it, but there’s nothing left for me to do, really, aside from move on.
And I did. I continued to get good grades, I got my associates, I got a part time job, and I continued to keep in contact with my friends. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was livable, and I was looking forward to the future, whatever it may be. At this point, I hadn’t prayed in months. Church hadn’t even been a thought. I continued to be a part of the online Christian community as a sort of devils advocate to certain debate topics. As I continued to play devils advocate, I saw with more clarity than ever that the Bible isn’t divine. People could twist whatever passage and twist it to fit their tightly packaged world view. The fact that it was so easy to twist the Bible, read between the lines, and even hold my own in an argument is concerning, and not something that it evidence of a divinely inspired, holy book. I could sit down with a christian and argue why the Bible not only doesn’t condemn tattoos, but encourages it. I could sit down with someone and explain how the bible isn’t against homosexuality, using the very verses that they would use against me. I could sit down and explain the bible’s real stance on abortion, and explain the context behind whatever verses they throw at me and rebut them. Then, if they accuse me of cherry picking, I’ll throw at them the passages in the Bible about slavery, genocide, murder, etc. It’s because of this that I’d come to realize that the Bible is just a book, and I didn’t pray for forgiveness. Not this time. I needed to learn more.
I learned about evolution for the first time in my 20 years of life. I learned how people developed morality, and used spirituality to answer questions that they had no way of answering. I learned about the real history behind Christianity that my school would’ve never dared teach us. I learned about Lilith, the epic of Gilgamesh, the different arguments Apologists use such as the cosmological argument, pascals wager, and their rebuttals. The more I learned, the less relevant God appeared to be. We didn’t need God for our morals. We didn’t need god for our success. Prayer is pointless if God is this omniscient being, and thanking Him for doing something He was already going to do is silly.
I’m not an atheist, although I certainly wouldn’t call myself christian either. Both options seem too obsolete for me. Both sides claim to know the answers to everything, and both seem so certain of their ideas, but that isn’t me. I can’t say for certain that there is no God, and I can’t say for certain that there is. I’m sorry mom, and I’m sorry to my christian friends, but I’m agnostic. It makes the most sense to me now than being a Christian, and I honestly feel so much more free.
I know what Christians say. They’ll look at my happiness and call it a comfortable prison that I won’t want to leave until it’s too late. They’ll say that I need to have faith, that I need to pray and hold on, that the battle isn’t won yet. They’ll say that I shouldn’t rely on my feelings. And to all of that, I say screw them. I’m tired of the indoctrination, and I’m tired of the cult like mentality that has been force-fed to me since I was in diapers. I’m 20 years old now, and I want to learn more about the world around me, without the fear of whatever I find turning me away from a fragile faith. I’m tired of being scared all the time of being myself, or of meeting new people that aren’t Christian. Christianity stopped making sense for me a long time ago, and I think it’s high time that I stopped making excuses for it. So as of this moment, as I’m typing this, I’m renouncing my ignorance as a Christian. I’m not very smart, and I’m not much of a debater, so I probably won’t be able to give a clear reason why I’m leaving this religion, but I know that this is the right decision for me. Maybe one day I’ll find myself crawling back to the faith, or someone will give me proper evidence that shows that the Christian God is real and he loves me, but I don’t think that’ll be anytime soon. Until then, that’s it. I’m done, and I think it’s about time I take a rest.
I would love to continue to be a part of this community to play devil's advocate in discussions, so please, don't take this post as a plead to take down my account. With that being said, thank you for reading, and have a nice day.
It first started when I was in 11th grade. I met a boy, James, and he was the atheist in the christian school. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he relished in the attention he got. People made fun of him, constantly telling him that God isn't dead, asking him where morals come from (in a condescending sort of way), and I vividly remember someone telling him that he was going to Hell. He didn't care. He only used those types of reactions to fuel his own ideas of what christianity was, which was ugly, corrupt, perverse. I sought him out. Maybe I can be different. Maybe I can show him that not all christians are ignorant and condescending. I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things. For one thing, James wasn't a saint in this scenario either. He was condescending, constantly looking down on Christians for foolishly believing in an "imaginary sky daddy". He had arguments against the faith, valid arguments, but his execution was a mess, and it didn't help that English wasn't his first language. Despite all of that, I was friends with him. I was able to hold my own against his arguments, and we shared a common interest in anime and webtoons, so we had other things to talk about aside from our differing world views. My point is, in 11th grade, that was when I first developed my interest in Christian apologetics. I figured that there will be others like James who will criticize the Christian faith, and I felt the calling to defend it to my last breath.
1 Peter 3: 15 "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
12th grade rolled around and I wasn't any better of an apologist than I was the year before. At that time, I was working on a passion project and that was all I could seem to think about, which was beginning to concern me. The book I was writing wasn't Christian. It wasn't anti-christian either, but I felt that it wouldn't hurt to have christian themes in the book. Maybe I could make a character a christian, or have a christian upbringing at least. Doing that, however, made me ask questions, and one question popped up that I didn't really have an answer to. One character, a Christian man, took in a girl from the streets who was 7 years younger and still in high school. I'd considered maybe adding some romantic chemistry for the drama, or maybe make the romance once sided on the man's part. But then I started thinking about cohabitation. The Bible isn't clear on the issue, which is no surprise. I mean, in the ancient world, women lived with their families until they were inevitably married off, so the idea of a woman and a man living together unmarried was practically unheard of. But times have changed. Now you would find people living together platonically out of financial necessity. Is that a sin? All my life I had believed that it was, but the Bible was completely silent on the issue. I eventually came to terms that sometimes it's better to play it safe if you want to save yourself until marriage, but it isn't a sin. But what else? What other ideas had I been spoon fed since birth that weren't necessarily true?
I went back into a research frenzy. I had opened my mind to the possibility that, just like with cohabitation, I may be wrong. Abortion? I can argue that all day. Homosexuality? Not in the way that you think. Cursing? Premarital sex? What did the Bible really say about these things? What did the verses actually say? Some of them were pretty cut and dry, others not so much. But I eventually came to a startling conclusion that shook my worldview.
How can a book that is supposedly timeless and divinely inspired be so, I don't know, vague? Wrong? I never denounced my faith. I didn’t have the courage to do so. Hell terrified me, and I could only pray to God to forgive me for my blasphemous thoughts.
After I graduated from my Christian school, I continued to go back to the Church side that was attached to my old school. So, yes, I saw old friends and colleagues, and I maintained the relationship I had with them. I worked unpaid at a cafe that was part of the church, and it was there that I saw the ugliest side of Christianity.
One woman who was a regular at the cafe was old. She was dressed practically rags, and yet she was still able to pay the cafe over $100 every Sunday for her sons, his friends, and naturally herself. This was odd, so naturally I asked my coworkers what the big deal was. Apparently, she was receiving checks from her husbands life insurance, and she used to checks to pay for her kids meals. After learning about this, it disgusted me, watching her eldest son buy the most expensive items in our menu for him and whoever he felt like treating that week, and I wasn’t alone. It eventually got to the point that my coworkers had to tell her to cut him off, as he was making her tab reach more than $200, and my coworkers and myself refused service to him. It was disgusting, and I could only blame the church for her mentality. The mentality to burn yourself out for the sake of others, putting more emphasis on loving others, making disciples, than loving yourself. Aside from that, no one knew how to do their jobs. Cutting corners and raising prices to fund whatever projects the church decided to take on, it was then that I decided to leave, but I couldn’t. It had been ingrained in me that I couldn’t just drop my stuff and leave, not without God’s permission. I felt sick, trapped, and stripped of my free will, although I didn’t put those feelings into words at that time.
It was only when my sister was getting bullied and sexually assaulted by the boys in her 5th grade class that I decided to leave. She was pulled out quickly, and I also cut all ties from my church with a sour taste in my mouth. The boys would would make jacking off motions towards her, threaten to rape her, and I’m more than certain that, with the churches strange fascination for the homeless in the community, the tutor for that private class was homeless himself, not even bothering to clean the smell of pee off of him before going to work.
I stopped going to church after that. Maybe I would step into the chapel for a service once in a blue moon, but even when I did, I was highly critical of the sermons. Was I a Christian at this time? I wasn’t sure. My upbringing told me that I was and will always be christian, even in times of struggle. But this was more than a struggle, but less fantastical than a mystical battle between the forces of light and darkness for my very soul. No, it was a period of doubt and skepticism that made me wonder, “maybe it’s not my fault that I can’t feel God like the others can”. Maybe, just maybe “there’s not God at all”. I once again prayed for forgiveness for my blasphemy and forced myself to read the Bible.
When I entered the college scene I felt underwhelmed. My christian upbringing told me that there will be constant struggle for my faith, that college professors will shove evolution down my throat, and that I’ll have to be especially brave to fight back the darkness. But there was nothing. I learned what I needed to learn with, as with everything at this point, skepticism. I got good grades, even made deans list one semester, and everything was going smoothly. I met a few oddballs here and there, but what else do you expect from a community college. I met my first boyfriend after my second semester.
I remember talking to him about the struggles I was having with my faith. He asked me if I was a Christian, and I was honest. I remember him telling me how he, as an atheist, will try to change my mind. That didn’t sit well with me, neither did the way he touched me. I remember telling him no. I remember pushing back, holding my shirt down while he tried to take it off, then complying when he ushered me to do so. I remember going home, crying and throwing up in the toilet, brushing my teeth the get the taste of him out of my mouth. I also remember cursing God how allowing that to happen to me, for making me so naive, weak, and stupid. It felt good to have someone to yell at other than myself, but then I felt stupid. That was the first time I felt like I was really just talking to the air.
I felt ashamed for what had happened to me, and couldn’t tell if it was my fault, or his, both of us, or if I was just being uptight. I mean, this happens all the time, so what was the big deal? Saying that didn’t make the ache go away, or the feeling of dread I had whenever I ran into him in school go away. I tried telling some friends, but one didn’t really know what to say, and the other one-upped me. I know she wasn’t trying to one-up me, but that’s how I felt. I felt alone. I tried to pray, but it felt tasteless. I joined an online Christian community. Maybe they had the answers. They didn’t. When I finally got an answer from them, they told me that it was my mistake. That I was tempted, and I failed. I didn’t know what to expect from them, but I didn’t want to hear that. I felt sick all over again. I could feel his hands all over me, and my heart squeezing in my chest. Maybe if I was more firm with what I wanted, maybe if I said no louder, we would still be dating. Maybe I’ll have more friends through him, or maybe I’ll be happy. But no, all because I failed the test, because I fell into temptation, I had to pay the price. It hurts all the more knowing that he’s moved on, met other girls, and is living his life in ignorant bliss. I hate it, but there’s nothing left for me to do, really, aside from move on.
And I did. I continued to get good grades, I got my associates, I got a part time job, and I continued to keep in contact with my friends. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was livable, and I was looking forward to the future, whatever it may be. At this point, I hadn’t prayed in months. Church hadn’t even been a thought. I continued to be a part of the online Christian community as a sort of devils advocate to certain debate topics. As I continued to play devils advocate, I saw with more clarity than ever that the Bible isn’t divine. People could twist whatever passage and twist it to fit their tightly packaged world view. The fact that it was so easy to twist the Bible, read between the lines, and even hold my own in an argument is concerning, and not something that it evidence of a divinely inspired, holy book. I could sit down with a christian and argue why the Bible not only doesn’t condemn tattoos, but encourages it. I could sit down with someone and explain how the bible isn’t against homosexuality, using the very verses that they would use against me. I could sit down and explain the bible’s real stance on abortion, and explain the context behind whatever verses they throw at me and rebut them. Then, if they accuse me of cherry picking, I’ll throw at them the passages in the Bible about slavery, genocide, murder, etc. It’s because of this that I’d come to realize that the Bible is just a book, and I didn’t pray for forgiveness. Not this time. I needed to learn more.
I learned about evolution for the first time in my 20 years of life. I learned how people developed morality, and used spirituality to answer questions that they had no way of answering. I learned about the real history behind Christianity that my school would’ve never dared teach us. I learned about Lilith, the epic of Gilgamesh, the different arguments Apologists use such as the cosmological argument, pascals wager, and their rebuttals. The more I learned, the less relevant God appeared to be. We didn’t need God for our morals. We didn’t need god for our success. Prayer is pointless if God is this omniscient being, and thanking Him for doing something He was already going to do is silly.
I’m not an atheist, although I certainly wouldn’t call myself christian either. Both options seem too obsolete for me. Both sides claim to know the answers to everything, and both seem so certain of their ideas, but that isn’t me. I can’t say for certain that there is no God, and I can’t say for certain that there is. I’m sorry mom, and I’m sorry to my christian friends, but I’m agnostic. It makes the most sense to me now than being a Christian, and I honestly feel so much more free.
I know what Christians say. They’ll look at my happiness and call it a comfortable prison that I won’t want to leave until it’s too late. They’ll say that I need to have faith, that I need to pray and hold on, that the battle isn’t won yet. They’ll say that I shouldn’t rely on my feelings. And to all of that, I say screw them. I’m tired of the indoctrination, and I’m tired of the cult like mentality that has been force-fed to me since I was in diapers. I’m 20 years old now, and I want to learn more about the world around me, without the fear of whatever I find turning me away from a fragile faith. I’m tired of being scared all the time of being myself, or of meeting new people that aren’t Christian. Christianity stopped making sense for me a long time ago, and I think it’s high time that I stopped making excuses for it. So as of this moment, as I’m typing this, I’m renouncing my ignorance as a Christian. I’m not very smart, and I’m not much of a debater, so I probably won’t be able to give a clear reason why I’m leaving this religion, but I know that this is the right decision for me. Maybe one day I’ll find myself crawling back to the faith, or someone will give me proper evidence that shows that the Christian God is real and he loves me, but I don’t think that’ll be anytime soon. Until then, that’s it. I’m done, and I think it’s about time I take a rest.
I would love to continue to be a part of this community to play devil's advocate in discussions, so please, don't take this post as a plead to take down my account. With that being said, thank you for reading, and have a nice day.
