Losing My Religion


I will never truly lose my religion - my God left an indelible mark on my brain. He exists in my life as a memory of a person who knew everything about me. He was a friend who I could trust with my deepest confessions. He would, at least, keep them a secret. But, he most certainly disapproved of many of my actions. Like many break-ups, it was a messy one. My Fall (so I call it) began almost 10 years ago, but I am still working through it all.


Photo by me.

Before the Fall, I’m standing in a crowded place. Although 30,000 people surround me, I could be alone. I’m lost - lost in the music, in the lights, in the lyrics:
“All my delight is in you, Lord.
All of my hope,
All of my strength.
All my delight is in you, Lord.
Forever more.”
It’s the truth. I’m bathing in it; tears streaming down my face, hands both raised. In the words of my cousin, I’m “weird”. But I don’t care. I’ve never felt such intense gratefulness, acceptance, longing, hopefulness. I probably never will again.
I’ve read a large proportion of the Bible. I admit, I found it hard to get through Leviticus, and there’s still a bookmark sitting at 1 Kings 2. But, I read the classics: Genesis through to 2 Samuel, Ester, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Isaiah, Jonah, and the entire new testament - some parts more than once. Come to think of it, I must have read 1 and 2 Kings. I’ve definitely read Song of Songs more than once (wink wink).

I was very ‘Christian’. I led bible studies for me and my school friends, mentored younger students, discussed passages frequently with my parents, filled many journals. I’ve even delved into the original Hebrew and Greek - just for those extra chunks of meaning. I didn’t have a problem with the concept of eternity. I imagined time stretching out as a finite line, God being outside of it, and humanity filling some section of it. After which, some of us joined the timeless abyss where God resides, and others joined the timeless abyss where God does not reside. My lifestyle and way of thinking sustained me well. The things I read rang true. Love your neighbour, love you enemy, turn the other cheek. It worked. Until, of course, it all came tumbling down.
When my world view toppled, I couldn’t quite grasp why. Without my knowing, it had been chipped away little by little until a specific conversation with an atheist friend at my university. Initially I tried to brush the feeling off, but alas, I couldn’t regain the confidence I once had. I knew too much. I had been shown the truth behind the curtain and I couldn’t make myself forget. My worldview was shattered beyond repair.
My father would have a problem with this description. He would say that a Godly worldview is built on a rock-solid foundation. I don’t agree. I don’t agree with him much anymore.

The day my worldview lost its balance, I lost my best friends. My parents are wonderful. Mum and I used to talk about God-things nearly every day. I wasn’t so close with Dad, but I knew that he was proud of me and that he supported me in everything that I did. My parents were my role-models, my mentors, the authority on everything about life. In my eyes, they were integrous, upstanding, honest, and faithful. I will always mourn the immovable wedge that was driven between us.

Although I now have some rational arguments against Christianity, I will fully acknowledge that my journey away from God was mostly emotional. My change in worldview was, in fact, powered by experiences in my life. These experiences left a sure emotional impact on me, but I still struggle to put words to them. And, still, I may be wrong about everything. Enter, this blog.

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