Bill Lodbell, former religion writer for the LA Times, writes movingly regarding his de-conversion from Christianity and move from being a religion writer of 9 years into something less painful.
My soul, for lack of a better term, had lost faith long ago — probably around the time I stopped going to church. My brain, which had been in denial, had finally caught up.
Clearly, I saw now that belief in God, no matter how grounded, requires at some point a leap of faith. Either you have the gift of faith or you don’t. It’s not a choice. It can’t be willed into existence. And there’s no faking it if you’re honest about the state of your soul.
Sitting in a park across the street from the courthouse, I called my wife on a cellphone. I told her I was putting in for a new beat at the paper.
Bill gets it. Being de-converted from faith isn’t something you search for. You look with longing at those who seem to be happy in their faith, wishing you could have something like it, following the recipes piously proclaimed from the pulpit, putting your whole heart into it.. and finding nothingness in return. It isn’t that one day you set out to be an atheist… one day you wake up and realize you are one, despite your best efforts to believe.
Too bad most believers don’t get it. One stinging criticism still rings in my mind, from someone very close to me: “The way I see it, you went looking for a reason to quit”. Nothing could be further from the truth.
With no adequate way to defend your heart from that kind of abuse, there is little solace to be found in acknowledging the truth about yourself. Just a long, empty silence with elephants dancing in the living room while you try to ignore them.
Babies and bathwaters
I just wrote a whole thing..
then I erased it and ate pie.
Make baby Jeebus cry
But what if it was your intent to throw out the baby and you wasted some perfectly good bathwater doing so?
I was pleased with how well Bill’s article dealt with some of the separation issues people encounter in that journey. As someone who’s gone through the same thing, I felt that it was very poignant. On the other hand, I think the article probably has far less impact for many others.
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Matthew P. Barnson
Same Moth, Different Flame
It’s funny, for a non-believer in Jesus and the Bible, I am really good at explaining to others the “proper” way to believe in Jesus and the Bible. I can explain how the parables relate to real life, how to make sense out of a 2000-year-old document, and I’ve been told I do it well.
Problem is, I don’t believe a word of it.
But keep in mind, I believe the meaning behind the religious dogma, just not the dogma. My religion, if you will, is the greater good of humanity. I don’t think I need to be good to make God happy or to get to heaven, but rather because it makes me feel good and if everyone did it, humanity would benefit.
However, most dogmas state you must believe certain things, else you perish in eternal flame. To me, there’s 90% similarity between how I believe life should be lived and how a Christian believes life should be lived. Treat people with love and kindness. Do what’s right, not what’s easy. There are disagreements in the details, but so what?
But I do it because I believe it’s what separates us from the other animals, as well as elevated us. Sacrificing your desires for the benefit of the greater good. My greater good is humanity, while religion’s greater good is God.
I can live with people having faith, but it seems those who have faith cannot live with my lack of it. Therein lies the rub. Somehow I need to “see the light”. I just need to come to church, and then it’ll all make sense eventually.
Uhm, no it won’t. I’ve searched myself as deep as I can, and belief in miracles and myths isn’t in me. I’m not capable of it. I can understand it, I can explain it, I can dream it, but in the end, I can not believe it.
When put to the question point blank, I’ll choose science over religion all the time. Science doesn’t preclude God, but my God must either fit into a scientific framework or be the creator of such a framework. My hearts lights us by finding out how it works. Explain to me the science of it, and I’m happy. Tell me it just works, and I’m sad.
I wish I could just take things on faith, but that’s not who I am. It’s not there. I can look at a sunset, knowing it’s caused by light refraction through the atmosphere, and still be moved to tears by the beauty. Knowing how it works doesn’t preclude it amazing me. Just like if life’s complexity overwhelms me, I can acknowledge it without having to place it’s creation into the hands of a higher power. When I look at my kids, and think that they came from an egg and sperm, it boggles my mind how something as wonderful as a child can be built with DNA, chromosomes, and mitosis. To me, that doesn’t imply a higher power, unless your referring to the higher power of time (billions of years) and life (which will find a way).
The funny thing is, I don’t miss religion. There’s no hole where it should be. I miss the camaraderie of the people in a church, of belonging to a group with a common purpose. But I never feel like I’m missing a part of myself when I don’t go to church. It’s just not there.
My $.02 Weed
My $.02 Weed
Jeff Ricks
Jeff Ricks gave a presentation at a local Humanist building some time ago regarding Humanist influences in the Bible. If you re-read the book with the thought that some of the authors were speaking figuratively about “god” is everywhere because “he” is information, and speech or writing as the “spirit” to transmit that information, it dramatically changes the underlying meaning of many Bible passages.
If I recall correctly, Jeff got his inspiration from the New Testament passage, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God”, thinking to himself “what if the author meant exactly what he said when he was talking about words?” It changes that passage to mean that information is God, and when we relay information we use words, which are the closest thing we have to bringing this information to someone else.
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Matthew P. Barnson
I’ll get off my lazy butt and log in someday… But not today!
Weed, sounds like I feel pretty close to how you feel. I’m amazed, impressed, and very happy with the universe. If there’s a God involved with that, then I’m EXTREMELY grateful; I’m glad to be here! But that doesn’t mean I _expect_ anything from Him or the universe or anything, outside of what I make sure I get.
And Matt, you might find this live chat from a few days later interesting. They link to it from the article’s sidebar.
EDIT by matthew: Linky.