By Carl S ~

Findings of a recent academic study from the University of Oregon and University of British Columbia show that believers are just as likely to cheat on academic tests as non-believers (as reported in Secular Humanist Bulletin, summer 2011). The article further reports: "What matters more than whether you believe in a God is what kind of a God you believe in. There is a relationship: believing in a mean God, a punishing one, does contribute to non-cheating behavior. Believing in a loving, forgiving God seems to have the opposite effect." The article concludes with words from Azim F. Shariff, co-author of the study, warning that “…the results are preliminary and cannot necessarily be applied to other types of moral behavior."

I must say I disagree with the "cannot necessarily" part of Mr. Shariff’s statement. For starters, some believers I have known had no trouble or qualms of conscience about cheating on tests and/or spouses, and I'm sure many of you can attest to that yourselves. This study threw a spotlight on a problem that has concerned me for decades: How can believers who call themselves Christians, who supposedly follow the teachings of Jesus, of non-violence, peacemaking, forgiveness of others, and charity to the most needy, applied personally, be Mafia members, drug lords, assassins, and violent gang members? How do they kill without conscience, and beat, torture, rip off their fellow humans, and steal? How do some members of the clergy rape children while continuing to preach the gospel on Sundays?

Forgiveness is of prime emphasis in Christianity. The major lesson of the New Testament “good news” pertains to the Redemption License; i.e., one can be forgiven no matter how heinous the former or future "sins,” in spite of how many one injures or kills, for Father - God - is infinitely forgiving. The dogma stating Christ's death atones for all the evil done or to be done by humans gives one carte blanch to sin all he desires to - redemption is prepaid. I'm sure Christians will argue that this is not what is taught, but remind them of "deathbed conversions" of criminals, or of confession and penitence with forgiveness as an assured result (leading to heavenly reward), no matter what evil one does.

The messages of Jesus, and John the Baptist before him, involved repenting and forgiveness emphasized through parables and examples. The prodigal son who wastes his inheritance on wanton living is rewarded, while his virtuous brother is ignored and put down, is a strong example. Jesus was "sent" not to the already morally upright, but to sinners, and prefers their company, as his God, according to him, does likewise.

The forgiveness game has been grabbed by clergy with the enthusiasm of a gambler busting a Las Vegas casino. They love to be the agents of forgiveness for their god; prison ministries, conversions, seeking out the terminally ill . . .

One goes to heaven or hell based on his belief; all results are based on faith. Strictly speaking, being a rotten person, but forgiven, will get you eternal bliss, for God loves to forgive. Strictly speaking, according to St. Paul, the founder of Christianity who wrote its attitude-scriptures, forgiveness applies only among members of the faith and their relationships to each other, not to the "others." Anyone who leaves the fold of the forgiven, the "redeemed," must be treated, in Paul's own words, as "anathema."

Clearly, the New Testament forgiveness message undermines true morality, and I’ll never be forgiven by Christians for saying this.

Stoic Nurturing verses Religious Indoctrination

By Jeff ~

Will ever the day come when the wise will band together the sweet dreams of youth and the joy of knowledge? Each is but naught when in solitary existence.

Will ever the day come when Nature will be the teacher of man and Humanity his book of devotions and Life his daily school? Youth’s purpose of joy – capable in its ecstasy and mild in its responsibility – cannot seek fulfilment until knowledge heralds the dawn of that day. [Kahlil Gibran]

Until some method of teaching virtue has been discovered, progress will have to be sought by improvement of intelligence rather than morals. [Bertrand Russell]

If a noble disposition be planted in a young mind, it will engender a flower that will endure to the end, and no rain will destroy, nor will it be withered by drought. [Antiphon]

I’m an Ex-Christian (of the born-again, spirit-filled persuasion) and I’m passionate about introducing a form of nurturing that will supersede religious indoctrination. The passion started with some ideas for a puppet theatre project, and now I find myself writing a book to help launch a new movement; so I’ve posted this little blurb as a preliminary feeler and any sensible comments would be much appreciated.

The new movement is called THE CHILDREN OF THE STOA, and it’s based on the pragmatic and heroic aspects of Stoic Philosophy. The original Stoic philosophers were called “men of the stoa” or “Stoics” because they taught and debated their ideas in a stoa, which is the Greek name for those porches, with the columns, on the front of ancient Greek temples. I’ve changed men of the stoa, to “Children of the Stoa” because the new movement’s aim will be to promote a youthful vitality to the pursuit of Virtue (Wisdom, Kindness, Moderation, Fortitude etc), especially in regards to the nurturing and education of youth.

The main project of the Children of the Stoa movement will be THE ARETE PUPPET THEATRES PROJECT; or Apt Project for short—which is a neat little abbreviation, in that “Apt” means suitable and appropriate—and although I already have lots of ideas for this project, it has certain universal and dynamic qualities that have prompted me to write the book and attract some kindred spirits first. There is also the feeling that if I just continued with this project alone (designing the puppets and puppet theatre booths in my garden shed) it might not amount to anything; whereas, if I can get other people to share my vision, who knows how big this project could get?

Here are two grand ideas, to show something of the project’s universal nature and dynamic potential:

1. Many, if not all of our social problems begin with the ideas and values people first acquire when they’re young children, but one of the biggest difficulties is that there is nothing, or very little that can be done to influence other people’s children. Puppet theatres are a solution to this problem, and my plan or vision involves very simple designs for puppets and puppet theatre booths, so they can be easily reproduced in two sizes. The big puppet theatres will be for beaches, shopping precincts, schools, gardens, parks, social clubs etc, and the smaller puppet theatres will be for people’s homes; which can be set up in the home, garden or street, to entertain and teach ones own children, as well as the children of friends and neighbours. One little fantasy that has kept this project alive is the thought of how quickly I could be giving a little puppet show, on top of a garden wall or fence perhaps. I can’t imagine any simpler, yet dynamic and fun way, of introducing children to some role-model characters, and creating some lasting impressions on their young minds.
 
2. Puppet theatres could be the catalysts of an Ideal Society. To explain this, I’ll use a simple analogy: If you wanted to properly grow some kind of valuable plants, then you’d need to make sure they have the right soil, moisture, temperature, plant food and light; varying the needs of the plants with the various stages of their growth. Your aim should be to provide the perfect conditions for the plants to grow as you want them; strong and healthy, with masses of fruit perhaps. But it is of prime importance that you begin this cultivation with an ideal goal in mind, and the love and care begins with the seeds and seedlings. By the same token—surely the creation of an ideal society could only begin with the best nurturing and education of youth. So that’s where the puppet theatres project fits in, as the Principal Nurturing and Educational Tools, and hopefully the flagships of many related enterprises.

Children learn first by imitating the people around them; so as Principal Nurturing Tools, specific soft and cuddly puppet-children could be given to newly born babies as good interactive toys, to play with the youngsters while demonstrating polite and kind behaviour. And a few politeness and kindness jingles would make these initial social skills really stick. There is also a sort of magic about puppets, in that they can take on a life or personality of their own—For example; the celebrity puppets, Kermit the Frog, Basil-Brush, Sooty and Sweep, and Rudd Hull’s Emu, have become far more than the materials they’re made of. So in the eyes of children, their puppet characters could seem very real, like extended family members and companions for life. So after forming a loving bond with their puppet characters, the children would see the puppet plays, where their puppet characters would be set up as fun loving and adventurous noble role models.

As Principle Educational Tools, the plays could also introduce children to some of the wisest and noblest characters in history, and the heroes I’ve chosen for the first play are Confucius, Epicurus, Zeno, Mahatma Gandhi and Socrates. Teaching children good behaviour might seem somewhat cheesy; but I have a feeling that even exaggerating the cheesiness, with these famous characters, would work brilliantly.

I have loads of ideas for the initial puppet play, but for now I’ll just give a brief outline. What I have in mind is six musical acts, where big song sheets are draped over the front of the puppet theatre booth for audience participation. The puppet play will be a gardening course, where an apprentice gardener grows a tree, called an Arete Tree; and there’ll be mechanical plants for the various stages of growth, with articulating leaves, stems and flowers, so they can be made to look both healthy and unwell; thus symbolising the moral growth of the apprentice puppet.

ACT 1 is the seed planting stage, and to help the apprentice will be the Greek God Zeus.

As an Ex-Christian I had a problem with using Zeus at first, but I gradually realised that it’s not wise to dispose of the idea of God completely, and the Greek myths never achieved sacred scripture status, so it’s easy to rule out notions that are unbecoming of a Supreme Being. There is also the fact that throughout ancient Greek culture, the gods had pantheistic qualities, which is probably why the ancient Greeks were the true pioneers of rational inquiry.

There is also an element of pragmatic heroism throughout the Greek myths, which became important to Stoic Philosophy. The Stoic Cleanthus expresses a divine calling—which is both heroic and rational—in this prayer:

Lead me O Zeus, and thou O Destiny,
The way that I am bid by you to go:
To follow I am ready, If I choose not,
I make myself a wretch, and still must follow. [Cleanthus]

Incidentally; the writer of the book of Acts—in Acts 17:28—adds a pantheistic element to Christianity, when he has St Paul quoting from this Stoic poem:

Let us begin with Zeus, whom we mortals never leave unspoken
For every street, every market place is full of Zeus
Even the sea and the harbour are full of his deity
Everyone everywhere is indebted to Zeus
For we are indeed his offspring [Aratus]

And this quote from Euripides I find extremely encouraging:

Whoso nobly yields unto necessity, we hold as wise and skilled in things divine. [Euripides]

The word “Arete” also comes from the Greek myths, and describes the hero; as explained in this historian’s description of the hero in Homer’s Odyssey:

The hero of the Odyssey is a great fighter, a wily schemer, a ready speaker, a man of stout heart and broad wisdom who knows that he must endure without too much complaining what the gods send: and he can both build and sail a boat, drive a furrow as straight as anyone, beat a young braggart at throwing the discus, challenge the Phoenician youth at boxing, wrestling or running, skin, cut up and cook an ox, and be moved to tears by a song.
He is in fact an excellent all-rounder. He has surpassing Arete.
Arete implies a respect for the wholeness of life and a consequent dislike for efficiency; or rather, a much higher idea of efficiency; an efficiency which exists not in one department of life, but in life itself. [H Kitto]

ACT 2 is the seed germination stage, and to help the apprentice will be Confucius.

This is the politeness and kindness stage of the course, and I’ve chosen Confucius because he grew up in a society where social rituals were very important. The rituals were a sort of elaborate and embellished form of polite and correct conduct, to do with ordering society, by showing respect to ones superiors and enacting ones own role in a way that would also be admired and earn respect:

When we see persons of worth we should think of equalling them; when we see persons of contrary character, we should turn inwards and examine ourselves. [Confucius]

The contribution Confucius made to his own society was to make it more humanitarian and less pompous, more to do with virtue, than class, wealth and social status:

He who exercises government by means of his virtue may be compared to the north polar star, which keeps its place and all the stars point toward it. [Confucius]

I’m sure Confucius would have wholeheartedly approved of the Apt Project, because his philosophy was also about teaching the masses:

If you think in terms of a year, plant a seed; if in terms of ten years, plant trees; if in terms of a hundred years, teach the people. [Confucius]

And of course, he knew that a society’s moral values begin in the home:
The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home. [Confucius]

ACT 3 is the seedling stage, and to help the apprentice will be Epictetus.

This is the moderation stage of the course, and I’ve chosen Epictetus because moderation was a very important aspect of his philosophy. Children’s social perspectives should go from family and friends, to community and then society; so I see Epicurus as providing the initial family, friendship and community based ideas, whereas the Stoics provide the broader social ideas they’ll need later.

Another reason for choosing Epicurus is because he lived in a garden retreat, within a community of likeminded people. This is a good model to learn from with the initial raising of children; in that we should try to avoid all the rubbish, and start to provide children with the noble values that the capitalist system lacks:

Protection from other men, secured to some extent by the power to expel, and by material prosperity in its purest form, comes from a quiet life withdrawn from the multitude. [Epicurus]

Epicurus equated happiness with such feelings as peace, tranquillity and harmony; so his attitude to life entailed a very cautious or prudent balance between pleasure and pain; and pain includes the absence of disturbing thoughts:

It is better for you to be free of fear lying upon a pallet, than to have a golden couch and a rich table and be full of trouble. [Epicurus]

ACT 4 is the sapling stage, and to help the apprentice will be Zeno of Citium; the founder of Stoic Philosophy.

This is the wisdom stage of the course, and I’ve chosen Zeno because of his Theory of Knowledge, which he taught using his hands:

      Stage 1: Hand held wide open—IMPRESSIONS
      Stage 2: Hand closes to form fist—ASSENT TO CONVICTION
      Stage 3: Other hand grasps fist—KNOWLEDGE

Here is my somewhat modified version of Zeno’s theory of knowledge:

Stage 1: IMPRESSIONS: Everything we can possibly know is initially derived from impressions made on our senses—i.e. hearing, seeing, touching, tasting and smelling. It is from these impressions our memories are built, which we recall as mental images, or appearances in the mind
In terms of memory, a newly born babies mind can be likened to a clean sheet of paper ready to be written on.

Stage 2: ASSENT TO CONVICTION: This is where our reasoning faculty forms general notions, through recognising relationships and similarities between the impressions. But impressions have varying degrees of clarity. Some, such as good and bad, are strong and demand immediate assent, whereas others require deliberate reflection, and the notions formed from weak indistinct impressions—although they may be true—are at this stage, merely our own formed Opinions or Beliefs.

Stage 3: KNOWLEDGE: The impressions from which genuine knowledge is formed are clear and precise, and this knowledge (deductions, conclusions, understanding) cannot be removed, and can be confirmed and reinforced by further impressions. Kataleptike Phantasia is the ancient Greek name for the impressions that get a firm grip on reality—In other words, the numerous events you can clearly recall that have resulted in genuine knowledge.

This isn’t about telling you how to think, it’s about telling you how you already think, most of the time you’re awake. It’s the natural method for grasping everyday practical knowledge you’ve been using since childhood, and the natural method that everyone has used throughout the whole of human history.

I intend to make a little mechanical prop for the puppet play, so Zeno can continue to teach this theory of knowledge, via his puppet likeness. The prop will consist of a microphone and two mechanical hands; so ideas are spoken, or sung into the microphone, and if they are mere opinions, one hand will just close; but if the idea is correct, the hand will close and be grasped by the other hand.

As an Ex-Christian, I found Zeno’s theory of knowledge very useful, for driving out all the biblical dogma I’d been taught in my youth; and this quote about the Stoic was also very useful:

THE STOIC is one who considers with neither panic nor indifference, that the field of possibilities available to him is large perhaps, or small perhaps, but closed. Whether because of the invariable habits of the gods, the invariable properties of matter, or the invariable limits within which logic and mathematics deploy their forms, he can hope for nothing that adequate method could not foresee. He need not despair, but the most fortunate resolution to any predicament will draw its elements still from a known set, and so will ideally occasion him no surprise. The analogies that underlie his thinking are physical, not biological: things are chosen shuffled combined: all motion rearranges a limited supply of energy. [Hugh Kenner]

The strange thing about history is that Greek Philosophy was mislaid for many years, as Europe went through that barbaric and superstitious era called the Dark Ages. Since that time, the theories of such Philosophers as Plato and Aristotle were incorporated, because they were somewhat compatible with religion. So generally speaking, the theories of Plato and Aristotle became the roots of intellectual thinking, and the moral fibre of society was left to the church; whereas the Stoics—who had the right attitude to life—have been treated like an interesting curiosity.

Here are three tasters from the Roman Stoics; the former slave Epictetus, the senator Seneca and the emperor Marcus Aurelius:

The good man will not be a common thread in the fabric of humanity. But a purple thread: That touch of brilliance which brings distinction and beauty to the rest. [Epictetus]

Philosophy teaches us to act, and not just to speak. It demands of everyone that he should actually live by his own standards, that his life should not be out of harmony with his words, and that his inner existence should be of one hue, and fully harmonious with all his outer activities. This is the highest duty and the highest proof there is real wisdom. [Seneca]

A mans true delight is to do the things he was made for: He was made to show goodwill to his kind, to rise above the promptings of his senses, to distinguish appearances from realities and to pursue the study of universal Nature and her works. [Marcus Aurelius]

ACT 5 is the flowering stage, and to help the apprentice will be Mahatma Gandhi.

This is the fortitude stage of the course, and I’ve chosen Mahatma Gandhi because I know of no other person who endured such incredible difficulties in order to make so many great social reforms. With all the anger and violence around him, Mahatma Gandhi wrote these:

Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding. [Mahatma Gandhi]

You must not loose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean: if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty. [Mahatma Gandhi]

I’m sure Mahatma Gandhi would have wholeheartedly approved of the Apt Project, considering this quote;

If we are to teach real peace in the world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children. [Mahatma Gandhi]

ACT 6 is the fruiting stage, and to assess how well the apprentice has done, will be Socrates.

This is the Eudaimonia or flourishing stage of the course, and I’ve chosen Socrates for several reasons; but most importantly there is the assertion “Arete is Knowledge,” in other words; if people were to know the best way to live and behave, then surely they would choose that way. Therefore people live and behave badly though ignorance. And I would add to this: People will only know how to pursue Arete, if they are nurtured with the notion of pursuing Arete in childhood. Or if they work on a project that aims to impress on children’s minds the notion of pursing Arete—for example: The Arete Puppet Theatres Project.

By Paul So ~

When I was young child raised in the church, it was always implied that doubting is at least discouraged (if not sinful), and trying to abandon your faith on the basis of doubt is usually frowned upon. What disturbs me now is that many of the Christians I’ve encountered believe that while one can occasionally doubt their faith, overall one should never abandon their faith on the basis of doubt, and to do so would somehow entail that the doubt is unjustifiable. It bothers me because I am powerless to convince them that my doubt was well justified and reasonable, and it is further exacerbated when some of them stubbornly think that I must have conclusive proof (beyond reasonable doubt) that my case is true. The problem with that is not many things can be believed only solely on the basis of conclusive proof, but most of time on the basis of the degree of reasonableness. But even this does not satisfy many Christians because many of them are not evidentialist (that is the belief that believes that knowledge is justified by evidence) but subscribe more or less to some form of fideism in which faith is the bedrock of the belief on God. Additionally, I find it some-what amusing that many Christians assume that to abandon your faith on the basis of doubt if unjustifiable without providing reasons why their faith is justified. This is mostly because they act under the presumption that their faith must be correct.

But what really bothers me is that in many churches where children are raised, to ask questions that explicitly (or implicitly) indicates penetrating doubt is often evaded, discouraged, or nullified with emotional non-sequitor arguments. To whatever degree, children are being indoctrinated to believe in God without asking any questions. But how do I define indoctrination? I believe that indoctrination is a general social conduct of reinforcement that limits both actual and potential intellectual autonomy of any agents as the means to make them accept a certain belief without being aware of the possibility of other alternatives. Indoctrination, I believe, is a common social norm among many (if not all) religious institutions because they want to exercise control to keep their members within their institutions; to lose the people would mean to lose the institutional status and power.

In many churches where children are raised, to ask questions that explicitly (or implicitly) indicates penetrating doubt is often evaded, discouraged, or nullified with emotional non-sequitor arguments.While institution in general is important, I believe that religious institutions have always been hostile and inimical to intellectual autonomy in which the person exercise his or her intellect to examine the unexamined. What becomes more problematic is that religious institutions make it a taboo to critically re-examine certain beliefs; Note that there is a difference between beliefs that are prohibited to be examined and being prohibited to critically examine beliefs. The former implies that one must refrain from examining certain beliefs, while the latter implies that one should not exercise their intellectual autonomy. I think many religious institutions do both of them (some do more with the latter than former, vice versa).

I guess the conclusion I am trying to arrive at is that to doubt is to question the truth-value of any beliefs on the basis that there are recognizable flaws to the belief. Such recognizable flaws can amount to inconsistency, lack of justification in terms of reason and evidence, immoral implications, etc. This is very different from subjective doubt in which you think there are flaws to the belief, but you have insufficient reasons and evidence to demonstrate your doubt. However doubt is much more than recognizing flaws to the belief; it is to actively exercise the intellect autonomously and independently of any potentially coercive institutions. To think autonomously is not only thinking in the absence of coercion, but to think in spite of coercion. Philosophers like Aristotle, Plato, Spinoza, and Kant have argued that it is our nature to reason, and we should try to reason, and I think that they are correct. However, whenever institutions discourage us to reason, they are discouraging us to act according to one of our most fundamental nature that makes us human. In a sense, I think indoctrination and the anti-intellectual social stigma against reason is dehumanizing because they discourage us to optimally exercise our innate capacity to reason. This is why when I witness similar events that have trodden down reason I feel outraged because they have violated something that has intrinsic value.

While human beings are dependent creatures in the sense that they passively and receptively accept the cultural, social, political, and religious norms of their environment in an early age, human beings also have the capacity as autonomous agents to change the social landscape of their environment that is conducive to independent thinking. But when the environment limits them to the state of passivity in terms of the freedom of the intellect, it is a tragedy since they have failed to recognize that they also posses something that is significantly valuable: that is to independently reason. Such independence, however, cannot remain merely individualistic (although to do so is also important) but can also emerge into a community of people who, like scientists, are eager to examine and test their beliefs in an open democratic discussion. This, to me, is freedom of speech in its highest form.

The reason why I am not only an atheist, but a freethinker who is suspicious of organized religions, is because these organized religious are also the institutions that tries to restrict the intellectual autonomy of the people through indoctrination and other forms of negative social reinforcements. This kind of institutions cannot possibly produce an open democratic discussion in which a community of people discusses to re-evaluate their ideals in order to arrive more closely to the truth. Such institutions, instead, makes people merely passive individuals who merely conform to irrational rules and beliefs.

I am an atheist, but in the historical and social context I am in now I also consider myself a free-thinker in the sense that I strongly value intellectual autonomy. I can possibly say that I am an atheist because I am a free-thinker who exercises my intellectual autonomy, and consequently doubt the beliefs that deserved to be doubted. I think that it is about time that we decide to declare ourselves the heir of the Enlightenment, carrying on the very values that promotes free-thinking.

By JR ~

From the very start of my "Christian Life," over 50 years ago, I have heard the question; "Do you have a personal relationship with God?" referred to many times. For years I never really considered the depth of that question . . . A Personal Relationship? Then I began to realize that frankly "No, I don't have a personal relationship with God," at least not the way I define "personal relation-ship."

Consider a close personal friend of your own. What do you know about that person? You know plenty if indeed they are a true personal friend. You discuss your problems with them on occassion, most likely. They give you their opinion about troubling issues in your life and you do the same for them. You laugh and sometimes cry with them. You enjoy spending time together because of the similarities and differences you both have and your willingness to communicate with eachother about them.You know you are cared for by them as they know they are cared for by you. You can see them, talk to them, hear them, and touch them. These are but a few ways you could probably describe your relationship with a personal friend.

So, simply put, Do I have a personal relationship with God? Is He a personal friend of mine? Can I see Him, hear Him, reason with Him . . . touch Him? Does He cry with me when I am hurt? Does He laugh with me when I am happy? . . . well? . . . . No. In fact I have never had one single experience in all the decades of my Christian Life inwhich I can say that I have experienced a personal encounter with God!

I believe I have listened to myself say things inwardly that I think God would say to me were He to say them. I can imagine how He might cry or laugh with me were He there to do so. I can even ponder how He looks, how His voice would sound if I could hear it. But the reality of the matter is that none of these things have ever happened to me . . . God has never revealed Himself to me in any of these ways . . . only by way of my imagination. I have always had an imaginary friendship with God which is no personal friendship or relationship at all. Sad. Nothing would have pleased me more and I also must add that there have been few things in life that have been a greater dissapointment.

There is nothing nor has there ever been anything personal" about the diety our ancestors brought into fictious reality in their efforts to find meaning and purpose for their own lives. They set God up for failure and the charlatans of the faith expose the human-like imperfections of this fictious being.

I wish God were personal . . . I really do.

By Dano ~

I am 75 years old, and have been a skeptic on the subject of religion for most of my life. I have arrived at the point where virtually all things requiring faith in supernatural things, seems just plain silly to me. The garden of Eden thing, makes so little sense when analyzed with a logical mind that it is irritating to me to even think about it. The Jesus story, is so patently, a blood sacrifice to an imaginary god story, and even dumber than many of the, sacrifice to god stories, that preceded it, that I want to scream.

It makes no sense folks, the whole Idea that the creator of the universe would need, or want a sacrifice to himself is nothing more than an insult to whatever brought about the big bang, assuming that "It" could be insulted.

The way I see it, is that the human animal is so insignificant in relation to many other things in the universe, including other forms of life that theoretical scientists postulate as having a very high degree of probability of being "out there", that to assume that we are special to whatever created it, and that it was created just for us, of is beyond arrogant. It is specious reasoning to an extreme.

We are special, but not to an imaginary god, sitting up somewhere in the sky, but to LIFE ITSELF, and living. We are special, but not to an imaginary god, sitting up somewhere in the sky, but to LIFE ITSELF, and living. We have been blessed with enough intelligence to see and create beauty, more so than any other life form on this planet. To waste what took 5 billion years to evolve in us, and spend our lives being afraid and feeling guilty and dirty, just because a bunch of sheep herders two thousand years ago invented a cult, is the true sin. We owe to the millions of people who were tortured and killed by these cultists, a dedication to rejecting all of the made up stuff they are still selling, and not giving power to popes, preachers, shamans, and their ilk, ever again.

So I'm saying to all of you clowns, with your special clothes, your robes, your collars turned backwards, and your funny hats, to keep your dramatic speeches about stuff you honestly know nothing about, to yourselves, and get a job just like the rest of us.

By Allen J Cavin ~

I was born Saturday March 13, 1965, I was raised in a lower-class Christian home. The first eight years raised as Lutheran and then as a Fundamental Independent Baptist. I attended a Lutheran Kindergarten, Public School for grades 1-3 but from the 4th grade on was again private church-related schools. I am not any different than many children raised up during the late 60's and 70's. Each Sunday morning you were dressed up in your good clothes, attended Sunday school, church service and then to eat at grandma's.

When I was around nine years old and sometime in 1974 the film The Burning Hell was shown at Bethany Baptist Church where my family was a going to at the time. The film depicted how people died and ended up in hell and how those that do not accept Christ as their Savior would be left behind after his return. Very shortly after seeing it, I had a vivid dream, a terrible dream of the Rapture happening.

In this dream, I was awakened by a loud sound, I jumped from my bed, looked out my window to see the moon had turned to blood, meaning I was left behind. I could not find my parents or anyone I knew, only that I was left behind to suffer the tribulation and to more than likely burn in hell for all eternity. I remember awaking from that dream drenched in sweat, tears streaming from my eyes. I scrambled from my bed, rushed to the bedroom window, threw the curtains back to check if the moon had indeed turned to blood. You can imagine how thrilled I was to find it had not and that like Scrooge in a Christmas Carol I had a second chance.

The very next church service, when the invitation was given I went forward and prayed the sinner's prayer to be saved. As I grew up, I was involved in the bus ministry, children's church, and more. Some time while in my early 20's, I stopped attending Church for reasons I now have no memory of. For about 20 years I never stepped foot inside a church, while a service was being held but still believing what I was taught, just not living it.

As the years passed, I met a wonderful woman, fell in love and two years later we were married on June 30, 1991 at our home we had moved into just a month or so before. My wife worked one mile from our home and the house was 2 1/2 miles from I-85 so it made it nice being that at the time I was on the road as a Contract Photographer, traveling anywhere from Maine to Florida and as far west as Mississippi. When my wife could join me we would travel and enjoyed being able to visit places. We took trips to the mountains of NC, TN and the NC & SC Coast as well. During those years my wife and I lived a good life and enjoyed it as much as we could.

Then in my early to mid 30's, I began not being able to stay awake while on the road. A few years later when in my late 30's I began feeling drained of energy, always tired and hurting all over. I went to Doctors and had test after test, exams, MRI's, CT scans, saw Specialist, Psychiatrist, took numbers of medications to help but none ever relieved my pain or being so tired all the time. I was treated for chronic pain, sleep apnea, depression, carpal tunnel syndrome and a few others I just do not recall. Finally I was told to file for disability and did, but even with lawyers and medical records saying they could not help me nor had any hope to. I was still denied three times and cannot refile due to the time I have been out of work.

During this time my wife had talked of wanting to go to church for a few years, so we went to church in late 2003. Not just any church either, It was the remnants of the church from my childhood. After a year or so after getting right with god, I became involved in church work again, was ordained and even began an online ministry named Global Web Mission, building web sites for Missionaries, Churches, Preachers etc. I witnessed online in chat rooms, sent out thousands of emails telling all that Jesus SAVES! I have seen many people accept Christ as their savior while online.

Even though I had some doubts here and there during my 40 some years of Christian life, as most believers have been at times, if they would be honest, I kept believing that god cared for and loved me. When the church I was a part of began falling apart after the Pastor passed away March 9 th 2006, I remember the date because it was just 4 days before my 41 st birthday. The members kind of rallied together in the beginning but after a year or so it had begun to come undone, All my 'quote' "friends, brothers and sisters in the church" left instead of keeping their word they turned away and left. I finally removed myself from that place, leaving it to the other members, which was by then only two families that showed up.

Even though I had some doubts here and there during my 40 some years of Christian life, as most believers have been at times, if they would be honest, I kept believing that god cared for and loved me. When the church I was a part of began falling apart after the Pastor passed away March 9 th 2006, I remember the date because it was just 4 days before my 41 st birthday. The members kind of rallied together in the beginning but after a year or so it had begun to come undone, All my quote, "friends, brothers and sisters in the church," left instead of keeping their word they turned away and left.

Nothing.... no answers... no doors of opportunity ever opened... just deafening silence...

Some time in early 2009 I stopped going to church, no longer read the bible and no longer prayed. This was mostly in part to me being in a lot of pain due to my health. I stopped doing any work with Global Web Mission. During this time I was, at first, mad at "god" and my past "friends" for forsaking me. I began to search for the hows and why's to my beliefs. Then, around Xmas of 2009, I had one of those light click on moments. I finally understood, I cannot be upset at "god", how silly and stupid is that? Mad at "god" why that is just preposterous, especially when there is obviously no "god" in which to be upset at.


The past friends, now that is a different story and they can all kiss my ass and are dead to me. "god" I am not longer upset with because if I were that would be like being upset that the Great Pumpkin did not visit my pumpkin patch.


I have deleted almost all of the many websites I built, a few others I gave the passwords to the people I built them for and it is up to them to keep up with them but my name has been removed or will be. I have now renamed Global Web Mission to "GOD" Went Missing. I have now renamed Global Web Mission to "GOD" Went Missing. http://www.orgsites.com/nc/gwm/index.html

I am now an Atheist, I base this on that there is no evidence that a "god" has ever existed in the past, see no viable data to prove one exist today or will in the near or distant future. I am an informed intelligent free thinking person that needs no one to live my life for me. I do not need a "bible", Religion or "god" in order for me to be a morally sound person or to treat the human race with humanity. I am an Atheist because I see no other reason not to be and I am proud of that fact. I choose to live, love and die free from the slavery of religion and to not bow down to worship an imaginary being that some call a "god".

By WizenedSage (Galen Rose) ~

It appears that every culture we know anything about, from the past few thousand years, has believed in some sort of afterlife. Given the contradictory descriptions, we know they all, or almost all, got the details wrong, but does the persistence of this basic theme suggest that the Christians may be onto something after all? Could every one of these cultures have been TOTALLY wrong about the existence of some sort of hereafter?

On the surface it doesn’t seem likely, but there are things that virtually everyone throughout history has believed which turned out to be wrong. That the earth is flat, for one, and that the sun goes around the earth and that evil spirits cause disease, for others. But, for the sake of discussion, let’s assume there is an afterlife and see what can be said about it.

The Mayans, Aztecs, Egyptians, Norse, Baha’i, Hindus, Sikhs, Zoroastrians, numerous American Indian tribes, and many, many other cultures, all believed in a paradise hereafter (and sometimes a hell), but with great differences among the details. Some believed the afterlife is a cool oasis filled with free-loving virgins and abundant food. Others thought it was a huge rough-hewn lodge with a roaring fireplace and tables loaded with meat and mead. Others thought it was a great plain teeming with wildlife where the hunting would be “happy.” Why did all these cultures from all over the world agree there is an afterlife, but disagree wildly on the details?

It appears that humans just naturally have a fear of death and invent ways to avoid it, yet the details will tend to reflect their own cultures; that is, a good life, however that culture defines it, leads to endless life in some sort of paradise, but the concept of paradise is ultimately subjective. Of course, the True Christian knows that in her religion the afterlife story comes not from a fear of death, as in all those hundreds of other cultures, but genuine revelation; the Christian revelation comes straight from god, through infallible spokesmen. All those other cultures’ religious spokesmen were simply dishonest or deluded.

Yet, some of those ancient cultures built incredible monuments to their beliefs. The Egyptians constructed numerous huge pyramids, some of the largest man-made structures in the world. The first Chinese emperor had a terra-cotta army sculpted and entombed with him, over 8,000 full-size figures in all, including warriors, servants, musicians, acrobats and animals. But, despite their gargantuan efforts, attesting the strength of their convictions, every Christian knows that none of those people ever went to an afterlife, since they weren’t True Christians.

It seems that all those other religions’ descriptions of heaven and hell were just made up. Those other cultures believed their detailed knowledge of the afterlife came from revelations from their gods, but, of course, Christians know that only Christian revelations can be accurate. They know this for the simple reason that the Christian revelations are in the bible and the others are only found in other “holy” books or oral traditions.

Every scrap of "evidence" those other cultures had for the truth of their religion came from human beings. It came from alleged prophets, other religious figures, and “holy” books (just like it does for modern day Christians). But their info came from the wrong prophets and books. The people of those other cultures must have been exhorted to believe on faith, just like today’s Christians, since the evidence NEVER comes from the objective world itself, but always from the claims made by other people. And none of those people were ever able to actually prove anything of substance concerning the existence of their god, the soul, an afterlife, or any revelation. All their so called “revelations” were false because, well…because they’re not in the bible. As one apologist explained, “If the Bible is wrong when it tells us it is infallible, then it contradicts itself. If it contradicts itself, then it is unreliable. If it is unreliable, then our faith is totally shattered and Christianity is a lie. You need to seriously reconsider your logic.”

Clearly, Christianity is different and very, very special. While those other cultures got the afterlife details all wrong, all those Mayans, Aztecs, Egyptians, Norse, Baha’i, Hindus, Sikhs, Zoroastrians, American Indians, etc., only the Christians got it right. Today’s Christians know that those people’s convictions were false, while their own are true, because they feel it in their hearts. Of course, those others felt “the truth” in their hearts, too, but they were obviously deluded. One wonders why they didn’t realize that. The modern Christian would certainly recognize if he was wrong about the afterlife, wouldn’t he?

By Neal Stone ~

As I get closer to filing divorce I find myself facing many battles...and winning. The counseling sessions have been good and after my second one my counselor asked if I wanted to continue. He asked in a way as if I didn't need too. We did find it wasn't low self-value hat was the problem, but currently as it was in the past. But rather now not seeing the value that was already there, But how does this happen? How does someone not have any self-value or not see their own value? That is part of what this blog is about.

We will dive deeper into my personal lift story than ever before. As my counselor told me “Just because it started bad, doesn't mean it has to end that way!”. I kind of like that.

Fire in the Mind
Part 1 – Allen

It’s there; you can feel it, a slight burning in the back of your mind. Like a fire that won’t go out. The smoke chokes your soul and your heart is smothered in its ashes. The fire of guilt, shame, and no self-value. The years wasted that now burn away never to be seen again. A fire burns, a fire in the mind.

You want to put out that fire but just as it smolders to an ash, something fuels into a roaring flame that once again burns.

She lies alone in a hospital room, a young mother about to give birth. Alone in a dark room in a foreign land. Alone in pain and despair, cries in the night unheard. Alone ready to give birth to her last child. But not tonight as a nurse who had some prejudice against this young mother walks away and leaves her all alone. Leaves her alone in the dark and in pain. Alone with a large bruise on her arm where a needle was violently shoved in.

One hour, then two, then three…five, six…eight...and then twelve pass. He walks through the hospital greeting his patients. He stops and gives them good or bad news, but makes his rounds as usual. He walks slowly towards the young mother’s room. She can hear his footsteps and his voice as he talks to others in the hospital. Time slows and each step echoes slowly down the hall. She tries to cry out, but is too weak. Lying in in pain and unable to cry out, she must wait. Wait for someone to find her.

Each step the doctor takes has an eerie echo. After what feels like a life time the doctor reaches the room of the young mother and walks in. What he sees is beyond belief. Laying on the bed in a pool of blood a young mother clings to life. Her unborn child stuck in the birth canal for no less than 12 hours. She is rushed into labor and the child, barely alive and blue, is born.

The stage is set. What would become a very troubled life had begun. A long journey of trials and pain had started.
Born Neal Allen Stone this child, called by Allen his middle name so not to be confused with his father with the same first name, would develop a few disabilities that would make his life difficult. Blind in his right eye and years later physical ailments more to come. At age 5 he would develop severe Epilepsy and with the medications that followed a learning disability as well. Blind, having seizures and perceived by many as dumb and stupid, Allen never had a chance to begin with. Deemed hopeless and a dim future, he would struggle, but soon give up. Not a good way to start life.

His natural father left when he was two. This would lead to a lifelong search with an unsure ending and feelings of rejection down the road. One of many sparks the refueled the fire.

There he would sit in special ed as the teachers would discuss him with his mother. They would stand there and discuss his hopeless learning disability while Allen played not realizing that he was listening and crying inside. “Why am I different? What is wrong with me? I am so stupid!” would run through this gentle child's mind. The fire started. A small spark that would slowly grow to a roaring flame years later. Not even in first grade yet and Allen’s self-value was already low and almost gone.

Yet there was one teacher who felt different. While the others ignored Allen or gave him little hope, she would sit with him and work with him. Often frustrated, but never giving up hope on Allen. And for two years she worked hard. Could she reach this little zombie who sat staring blank at the wall? A child who could barely speak and express himself, shuttered away in his mind alone like his mother in the hospital. Crying out inside with no one to hear his faint voice. A cry in the night no one heard slipping helplessly into the dark.

Yet here was one woman who ventured into the dark and heard the cry. One person who cared enough to take such a chance. And for two years she worked hard teaching, talking, reaching out to Allen in the hopes that somehow she could make a difference. A teacher whose name long forgotten, but actions long remembered.

Then one day it happened. First a slight flicker in the eye as it turned to look at the teacher. A blank stare became a weak smile and the mouth would move as if trying to speak. Then like a flood gate opening Allen suddenly snapped out of his trance and for a brief moment, escaped the dark. He turned to the teacher and began to repeat everything she had taught him the past two years. The fire had started to slowly fade as Allen was able for a small time in his life, escape the binds of his disability and be free from the darkness that held him for so long. The story made the papers and the local news. He would be called “The Miracle Child”.

But this would be one of few bright moments over shadowed by darkness and hard times. It would be a small victory in a larger battle. His childhood would be on and off. Some days he was normal like any other kid, other days a zombie. He would attend a Christian school in the 6th grade. Even there he would have to deal with being bullied and made fun of. Even surrounded by Christians he wasn’t safe? Why is it in the one place you should be able to count on people, you can’t? Even his mom's fiance' wasn't any help. Often calling Allen stupid or dummy when he made a mistake. This Allen would carry with him into his adult life.

At age twelve his soon-to-be step-dad joined a local Baptist church. It was here the nightmare would really begin. It was here things got strange fast. This was no ordinary church. This one became very cult like and controlling very quickly. The step-dad thrived on it! Allen didn’t have a chance!

Next
Fire in the Mind Part 2
The Hostage

A draft chapter from a forthcoming book on former Christians and their experiences, by James Smith. Feedback on the chapter and requests for more information on the book may be sent to Exchristiantestimonies@hotmail.co.uk. ~

‘Christianity has made of death a terror which was unknown to the gay calmness of the Pagan.’ – Ouida

‘In order that the happiness of the saints may be more delightful to them and that they may render more copious thanks to God for it, they are allowed to see perfectly the sufferings of the damned…So that they may be urged the more to praise God…The saints in heaven know distinctly all that happens…to the damned.’ – Saint Thomas Aquinas

I remember my first time very distinctly. It took place during a Sunday school lesson held on a cricket green when I was about a year shy of my thirteenth birthday. It was a balmy Welsh summer evening, and so rather than congregate in the stuffy room at the back of the church where we usually met, our teacher had permitted us the luxury of reclining on the freshly mown green as we listened to our usual lessons. The grim act itself was preceded by an ill-advised rebellion by my younger brother and I against the authority of both teacher and church that I can only think was inspired by the heated air of a summer evening. For, rather than dutifully listening to what we were taught as we normally did, I recall that we took the opportunity that evening to field our bemused teacher a series of objections that we harboured against Sunday school and Christianity in general. The questions we posed were nothing groundbreaking. After reeling off a couple of objections to the regime at our Sunday school, we got on to the rather weightier matter of our objections to God. We wanted to know why there were starving children in Africa if God loved us. We wanted to know why God was so worried about what we did with our lives and why we couldn’t just do as we liked. Presumably rattled by the mini-rebellion in the ranks and concerned by the prospect of it spreading, our teacher struck back. He told us that starving African children were part of God’s plan, and that we would learn in time to trust the Lord and his mysterious ways. He also told us that God wanted us to follow his commandments because he loved us, and that compliance with the various regulations we chafed against was ultimately for our own good. Then he said it. With pursed lips and an inhumanly calm expression in the light of what he was shortly to say, he abruptly concluded that if we did not become Christians and follow God we would go to hell forever.

This last comment flattened me. Although the decade or so I had spent as a child in evangelical congregations meant that I had heard talk of hell before, it had never been bluntly spelt out to me that hell was a place where all non-Christians went. I had merely assumed that hell was, to paraphrase Jean-Paul Sartre, for other people. In my naivety I had fancied that hell’s torments were reserved for men of the calibre of Hitler or, at a push, the bad people that I heard about on news bulletins and whose crimes I vaguely imagined. It gobsmacked me that I, who was after all so good despite occasional misdemeanours, could merit such a fate. My introduction to Christianity’s infernal regions upset me to the extent that I asked another one of my teachers about it. This time it was put with the tact that many modern Christians are very good at describing hell. The second teacher’s remarks were prefaced with the assurance that God loved me and wanted what was best for me, but that, yes, and I distinctly remember the pained expression with which this was said, I would go to hell if I wasn’t a Christian. The weight of eternity at once fell onto my young shoulders. Church was never quite the same for me again.

Though I wasn’t to know it, I had actually got off rather lightly. Had I been churched just a few decades earlier, hellfire would have drummed into me with a lot more gusto. If you wish to read a particularly graphic account of the traditional Christian hell and appreciate the relish with which it was taught to children, I recommend James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Midway through the novel, the young Stephen Dedalus is subjected to a no holds barred delineation of hell and its horrors. Stephen and his class are told by Father Arnall that the bodies of the damned are eternally consumed by fire in hell. They are told that hell’s unhappy inhabitants are mocked by demons. Naturally, they are also told that unless they are good Catholics they will have to endure eternity in this unhappy place. Though the modern reader may be tempted to think that Joyce took artistic licence with Father Arnall’s sermon, the offending section in Portrait of the Artist was taken from an actual sermon. Joyce would in any case have been spoilt for inspirational material, for Christians had preached such a hell in the nineteen centuries before Joyce picked up a pen. Eternal punishment is after all an integral part of Christianity. Although the Bible itself is rather vague about what hell is like, the good book pretty unambiguously states that sinners will go there. Jesus preaches that those who do not accept his message will face eternal punishment, whilst the book of Revelation promises that a lake of fire awaits the unsaved in the afterlife. Biblical enthusiasm for eternal perdition has also been matched, and some would say outdone, by the zeal with which subsequent Christians have preached it. In almost every time and place that the gospel has been preached, a physical and eternal hell has been preached as part of it.

Whatever the zeal with which hellfire has been traditionally preached, the theology and propagation of eternal punishment has actually undergone key modifications of late. Hell has on the one hand become a lot more temperate. The flames of Father Arnall’s hell have yielded to a hell that is said by many modern Christians to simply entail the state of separation from God. C.S. Lewis merely conceived of hell as a place where God is absent from. Lewis drew on his rather bourgeoisie personal hell of the rainy, dusky streets of a city slum and extended it eternally. Though many believers still preach fire and brimstone, such a conception of hell has become popular to the extent that even the Catholic Church has adopted it. In a Vatican address in 1999, Pope John Paul II told a congregation that Biblical images of a physical hell were metaphorical and that hell was only hell because the damned would have to endure eternal separation from the almighty. Salvation has also become more universal. Many churches used to preach that Christians in other denominations would be eternally lost, whilst it was a matter of consensus that believers in other religions would swell the ranks of the damned. Although conservatives still cling to such views, most Christians now believe that all Christians will be saved and the more liberal even believe that divine mercy will extend to believers from other religions.

If there is one thing that makes me glad that Christianity is not true it is hell. Whatever reinterpretations the doctrine has been subject to in recent times, hell has inflicted incalculable human misery over the centuries. Reflect for a moment on what eternal loss would involve. The gory details have been spelt out with sufficient vivacity elsewhere for me not to have to, but consider, just for a second, what eternity in any of the hells Christians preach would be like. The trepidation most feel introduces us to a first and obvious truth about hell; the doctrine primarily exists to put believers off leaving Christianity. Because of the gravity of the threats that Christianity makes to apostates and lapsed believers, the religion possesses a very effective means of keeping the flock in the pen. What should be equally obvious that this fidelity only comes at the expense of believers’ emotional health. Because Christianity preaches eternal loss, the terror the religion makes of the afterlife exerts a serious burden on believers. This burden can manifest itself in many forms. What the threat of hell on the one hand guarantees is that if you accept the truth of Christianity you have no choice but to follow it. If there is one thing the offer of salvation some Christians speak of is not it is an offer. Because of the scale of the threat Christianity makes to those who refuse to follow it, the religion effectively precludes any element of choice in its adoption. There is after all no real choice between following Jesus and spending eternity in hell. The only way to leave Christianity is therefore to decide the religion is untrue or reinterpret core parts of it; if you accept Christianity’s truth the existence of hell means that you are effectively locked into some degree of observance. This in itself imposes a substantial burden on Christians. It means that the observance of the religion is for some a necessary precaution rather than something done out of love for God. It means that some believers worry whether their salvation is actually guaranteed. It also means, and I shall elaborate upon this in a second, that there are very good reasons not to subject faith to searching questions. The fear of hell can also manifest itself in the pathological observance of Christianity’s regulations. Many believers, as I spent some time arguing in chapter four, make themselves miserable following Christianity’s edicts precisely because the prospect of a tortured eternity is so dreadful. And, as I also proposed, conditions like scrupulosity are in fact a rational reaction to the threat of hell. The extreme feats of introspection and piety people afflicted with religious pathologies take would be justified if an eternal hell existed. It would be worth locking oneself away in a monastery if an eternal hell existed. It would even be worth, as Simon the Stylite the famous fifth century ascetic did, living on top of a pillar for decades if the neglect of one’s flesh pleased the Lord. If hell existed then the only worthwhile goal in life would be avoiding going there. Because Christianity preaches eternal loss and thus relegates the mortal coil to irrelevance, the religion encourages its adherents to flagellate soul and body in this world in the hope of gaining credit in the next.

There is also nothing like the threat of hell’s eternity to predispose the mind against doubt. This is a further function hell assumes in Christianity; because of the nature of the threats the religion makes to backsliders and non-believers, hell makes Christians scared to explore their doubts about the religion. After all, if one is unsure about Christianity but believe that disbelief could earn one an eternal sentence, throwing one’s lot in with faith is the safe bet. This is of course known as Pascal’s Wager. It is better, as Blaise Pascal reflected in note 233 of his Pensées, to believe rather than disbelieve given the eternal consequences of disbelief. Multiple as the philosophical objections against playing Pascal’s Wager may be, taking the wager is so tempting because it appeases the scared animal that lives in all of us. What is plain is that many believers are in reality playing Pascal’s Wager. If you look at the studies that reveal serious doubt amongst Christians1 and reflect on the scale of the threat Christianity makes to apostates, it is merely logical to think that many are acting just as Pascal counselled. Some Christians even admit outright they are doing just this. I recall for instance a particularly honest believer in my youth group who conceded this to us. Numerous former Christians also recount years of playing Pascal’s Wager. One former believer confided to me that his dread of hell had meant he had not possessed the emotional strength to go directly from believer to atheist. Such was his fear of damnation that he had to go from evangelical to liberal Christian to deist to agnostic prior to the declaration of his outright disbelief. My own deconversion followed a broadly similar course. In my own case, my fear of hell constantly inhibited my ability to interrogate Christianity to questions. Such was my weariness of risking damnation that I was always very reluctant to explore material critical of Christianity lest I put my soul in the balance. I recall avoiding certain books and websites. I recall shying away from certain conversations. Because I didn’t want to take the slightest risk of incurring eternal damnation, I thought such precautions were entirely justified.

My own fear of hell also meant that I was also for years unable to admit my disbelief to myself even after that belief had in reality evaporated. Such was my residual fear that denying Christ would mean that I would join the ranks of the damned that I was unable to muster the energy to make the final break with Christianity. I would tell myself that I still believed even though I quite simply did not. When others asked I would say that I was a Christian even though I didn’t go to church. The accounts of other former Christians also demonstrate that such an experience is far from unique to me. I unearthed the case of Nick, an Australian former Pentecostalist, whilst I was researching this work. Nick came to faith as a teen, and became devout to the extent that he didn’t drink or smoke and eschewed most forms of secular culture. Despite his early enthusiasm, Nick was afflicted by serious doubts in his late twenties. His own study of Mormonism unnerved him because he realized that the apologies offered by Mormons were near identical to the ones given by Christians. His study of early Christian history, whilst at college training to be a pastor, exposed him to the doubts that have niggled countless others who have studied the topic. When he entered his thirties, Nick had in reality lost all of his faith. He no longer went to church, had long abandoned his devout lifestyle, and would typically become defensive on meeting other Christians socially. Although his faith had in truth gone, Nick was just like me in that his fear of hell was such that he couldn’t bring himself to admit his disbelief to himself. Because the prospect of an eternal hell was so deeply engrained in Nick’s psyche, he was flatly unable to shed the remnants of his Christian skin,

‘Even though I was no longer a Christian in reality, I just couldn’t bring myself to come out and say that I didn’t believe in any of it. I kept on telling myself that I still believed it, even though every last bit of my faith had disappeared. There was nothing left of my faith and yet I refused to say it out loud because of my fear of hell.’

Nick eventually overcame his fears and summoned the resolve to admit to himself that he was no longer a Christian. Nick’s fear of hell outlived his faith however. For despite the fact that he longer believed in the place, such was the grip that hell exerted on Nick that, on occasions, his old phobias would flare up and he would worry that his deconversion had been a dreadful error that would cost him his soul. To assuage his fears, Nick would have to reassure himself that the hell he was scared of didn’t exist. What is utterly unsurprising is that such an experience is not just confined to Nick. Because the threats Christianity makes about hell are so grave and are typically made to people whilst they are children, they worm profoundly into believers’ psyches and hold people prisoners post-Christianity. Countless former Christians are still haunted by a nagging, persistent fear that they are eternally endangered because they no longer believe. The fear is irrational and difficult to pinpoint precisely because it is burrowed so deeply into peoples’ subconscious, yet on occasions it comes to the surface and distresses people. It can manifest itself in nightmares. It can manifest itself in a fear of death. In other cases former believers consider returning to the fold such is the fear that hell inspires in them. I am no exception. Sometimes the fear gives me the nightmares that others report. Sometimes the fear inspires me to re-examine whether Jesus really did rise again. The fear has abated a little over the course of time, but I suspect that it will always be with me. It is the price that I, and countless others, have to pay for long-term exposure to the doctrine of hell.

Disturbing as worrying about the prospect of one’s own tortured eternity can be, a further burden that hell imposes on believers is that it inspires a deep anxiety for the eternal fate of others. This is perfectly rational within the parameters of Christian logic. For, if you reflect on what an eternal sentence to hell would actually involve, worry for those you fear damned would be the reaction of any empathetic human. On the one hand, the concern that others are doomed to eternal perdition spurs Christians to evangelize. Everyone will be familiar with the more enthused. There can after all not be a high street in western civilization where shoppers have not at some point been harangued by a street preacher threatening divine retribution in the world to come. Although most Christians do not go in for evangelism on this scale, many are troubled by the prospect of eternal perdition to the degree that they feel at least some degree of duty to help win souls for the Lord. Some leaflet unbelieving neighbours or support missionaries. Others work on non-Christian family and friends. The problem is that carrying the weight of other peoples’ eternity can be very burdensome. And because Christians are cursed to live in a world where every tongue does not confess Jesus as saviour, many of them suffer from substantial anguish about the fate of nonbelievers. The perpetual need to evangelize can be onerous in itself. There is a video disseminated on the Internet by American fundamentalists that very concisely illustrates the emotional strain that the need to evangelize exerts upon believers. The video itself is called The Letter from Hell, and tells of the death of a young non-believer called Josh in a car accident after an alcohol fuelled house party. On expiry, Josh finds himself in hell itself and is sufficiently affected by the experience to pen a letter to one of his former friends; a young Christian named Zak. The letter itself agonizes over why Zak didn’t tell his friend about Jesus. Josh chastises Zak for his selfishness in not talking to his friend about his faith, and recalls the various times when Christianity came up in conversations but the embarrassed Zak changed the subject. The video concludes with Josh being cast into hell’s lake of fire. Gruesome though it is, The Letter from Hell is so effective because it plays on the guilt that many Christians feel at their own failure to evangelize. As we have seen, because of the fate Christianity promises to unbelievers, the religion places a heavy burden upon adherents to proselytize. And, when believers fail to meet the religion’s exacting standards, many feel mightily guilty. Some talk of depression at their failure to pluck up the courage to tell sceptical friends about their faith. Others talk of serious guilt on the death of unbelieving family and friends. Yet, because it promises eternal perdition to unbelievers, the doctrine of hell places such a burden Christians.

Anguish over the souls of others can be particularly acute in the cases of Christians who have loved ones who don’t believe. Again, it is rather inevitable that many Christians will be afflicted by such worries. No empathetic human could after all be indifferent to the prospect of their loved ones going to the hell that Christianity promises to non-believers. There is a rather touching anecdote in a book by the Reverend Nicky Gumbel that illustrates the extent to which believers with non-believing family can fret over the eternal fate of their kin. In this case, the Reverend Gumbel, the world-renowned face of the Alpha evangelical course, was worried about the soul of his recently deceased father. Gumbel had suffered the shock of his father’s sudden death and was further tormented by the realization that he didn’t know whether his father had been a Christian prior to his death. Gumbel knew that his previously unbelieving father had warmed to Christianity just before he had died, but didn’t know whether he had gone the final mile and accepted Jesus into his heart. The Reverend’s worries were apparently resolved after he received a series of signs from the Lord. He serendipitously came across Romans 10:13 (‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved’) in the course of a private bible study, yet became convinced that the verse had in fact been intended for him after encountering the same verse in a group Bible study and on a billboard in the London Underground. Gumbel naturally took this to mean that the almighty had looked favourably on his father’s candidature for heaven, and his worries promptly ceased. Other stories don’t end so happily. Many Christians after all have friends and family who never turn from the error of their ways. And, because Christians are required to believe that non-Christians will suffer eternal perdition yet live in societies where many disbelieve, believers just have to face up to the prospect of the eternal loss of loved ones. Some believers fall into depression because they think deceased family members are in hell. Others are affected to the extent that they feel obliged to constantly evangelize to their non-believing family. Yet, because of the nature of the punishment that Christianity foresees for non-believers, the mere act of believing means that Christians are doomed to bear such burdens.

It is hard to over emphasize the misery that hell has inflicted on countless believers and former believers. Hell can encourage religious scrupulosity. It can stifle doubt. It can even terrify people who no longer believe in it. I also suspect that there is a relationship between hell and a number of things that are beyond the scope of this work. I would be interested in seeing research on the success of religions that preach eternal perdition compared to those that do not. I would be interested in seeing research on political and religious dissent and the preaching of eternal hell. I don’t think that this is to see the hand of hell in places where it is not; it is merely to recognize that the threat of eternal damnation is incredibly effective at striking fear into human beings. Studies on such questions are conspicuous by their absence however. There is also a general paucity of studies on the effects of hell; hell and its noxious effects is in fact scarcely mentioned in research on the psychological effects of religion. This is despite the fact that, as I have attempted to show in this chapter, hell can inflict long-lasting psychological wounds on Christians and former Christians. I suspect that part of the reason that hell hasn’t piqued the interest of more psychologists is because we are all so acclimatised to it. Hell is mainstreamed in our societies to the extent that it is the subject of works of literature, tasteless jokes, and Simpsons episodes. We think it is normal, and have become immunized to the doctrine’s inhumanity and noxious effects. The fact that we don’t know more about hell and its effects is symptomatic of a wider problem however; this is that we, as societies, are incredibly reluctant to explore the negative effects of religious ideas. And this, as I have argued throughout this work, has to be redressed.

By R. Martinez-Stone ~

I was recently asked by a friend who is a born-again Christian if I think my life is better since I’ve left Christian fundamentalism. My answer was a simple yes, but since responding, I’ve given the question more thought. I felt like I needed to elaborate and more clearly define why I am happier now as a non-Christian. I guess I have never put into words why I instinctively and impulsively responded as I did. I’ve never had any regrets, leaving the church; but now I wondered why.

The first reason that came to mind is that, since leaving Fundamentalism, I have been set free from their narrowly defined definition of god and have since had the freedom to have a more individual, personal relationship with god. It is ironic because fundamentalism speaks frequently about the importance of having a “personal relationship” with god, but in my experience, once one becomes a fundamentalist, god is defined by the pulpit and the relationship is so clearly defined that all church members share the exact same beliefs. So I guess I could say that I am happier defining god based on my own personal experiences, intelligence, rationale, and intuition than when I was told what and how to believe and that I am happier now because only since leaving fundamentalism have I been able to have a truly personal relationship with god.

Another reason I am happier since leaving fundamentalism is that I am able to be more fully myself, whereas when I was a believer, I had to monitor who I was and re-create myself according to church-based standards. Everything from the clothes we wore to the music we listened to was insidiously dictated from the pastor and among believers. Even who we would ultimately vote for was assumed and prescribed; variations were not welcome. Being able to be more fully and authentically Me was especially powerful as a female because I felt so restricted as a born-again believer; my role as a woman was narrowly defined by the pulpit’s interpretation of biblical scriptures.

Once leaving, my marriage relationship improved because I was no longer bound to be submissive; I was free to express myself, to stand up for myself and my children, and to put my foot down if necessary. Therefore, I am happier now because I am no longer subservient to men and can revel in the unique strengths of being female. Leaving the church and redefining god resulted in a less judgmental me. I was no longer self-righteous. I was a human being, just like everyone else and therefore subject to the same strengths and weaknesses as the rest of the population; I was no better or worse than anyone else. I no longer viewed the world in an “us vs. them” mentality.

Walking away from fundamentalism allowed me to see all of humankind as a whole, realizing that we are all united by our humanness. So I guess I could say that I am happier now because as a non-fundamentalist, I have more respect and appreciation for human beings – for both our diversity AND commonalities. I continued to think about and compare my life both as a Christian and as a former-fundamentalist. Some things have not changed: I still experience both the good and the bad in life, just like everyone else. Both as a Christian and as a non-Christian, I have experienced joy, happiness, love, peace of mind and satisfaction; but

I have also experienced pain, loss, sadness, and unhappiness in both realms. As both a believer and non-believer, I have experienced the supernatural experience of that-which-is-holy and continue to be a deeply spiritual and religious person – though my methods and rationale have changed. One of the first things to change, however, upon leaving fundamentalism was my parenting techniques. I returned to my former, pre-saved belief that it is generally wrong to hit a child. I no longer viewed my children as inherently sinful creatures in need of repentance. Upon doing so, the relationship between me and my children greatly improved. So I can say with confidence that I am happier as a non-Christian because it made me a better, more loving and nurturing parent who was more respectful of my children’s individual identities and developmental strengths, weaknesses and needs. I saw a lot of child abuse in the church and regrettably that includes my own behavior as a “Christian” parent, for which I will forever be remorseful.

There is one more reason why I am happier now. I am happier now because I am free to be a skeptical, independent thinker. I am no longer bound to accept only what is preached, but can seek the answers I need on my own, consulting a variety of sources instead of just a single, limited interpretation of a collection of books written thousands of years ago in a far-away land by a male-dominant culture vastly different and by far less enlightened than our own. Since learning more about the history of the world and its people, I have a broader context of biblical history and more fully understand how Judaism, and eventually Christianity, developed.

I have come to realize, much to my surprise initially, that much of what the bible teaches is not unique; many cultures prior to the Israelites believed in savior-gods, saviors who were born from a virgin, saviors referred to as a “shepherd” or who promised deliverance from sin and evil. I came to learn that much of the Old Testament records a history of a people who were devoted to a male god and who worked hard to eliminate the predominant believe in both a mother-goddess and a father-god and that this continued well into New Testament times and beyond.

Learning about the history of Neolithic religions helped me understand the context of monotheism and the newer religions that incorporated only the male gods and eliminated the female representation of the divine. Now, I am free to bring the female aspect of god into my own perception of the Divine, for as one author put it, “if you cannot see the female in God, you will never see God in the female.” Finally, I think I am happier now because I can freely admit that no one’s faith – including my own – can be proved nor disproved.

I can readily admit that the things I believe are not provable, without fear or anxiety, because I believe that if there IS a god, and if that Supreme Being wanted us to know, without a doubt, of its existence, it would be clear to us all. There would be no need for the multitude of religious paths that we, as humans, have created. Perhaps we would all come into this world with the Truth attached to our umbilical cords!

I do, however, believe that every one of our world’s religions have some Truth within them. Each path offers inspired insights. But each religion runs the risk of becoming dysfunctional if it claims to possess Absolute Truth because absolute truth requires no faith at all; it is inarguable. So in answer to my friend’s question: Yes, I am happier now as a former Christian fundamentalist than I was as a born-again believer who believed that the Bible was the word of God and should be interpreted literally and without question. In fact, I am much happier.

By Libby Anne ~

Everyone who leaves the Quiverfull movement, Christian Patriarchy, or fundamentalism in general has a long journey in front of them. They have to sort through everything they have always believed and determine what to throw out and what to keep, what still makes sense and what does not. This can be a long and difficult process, and can even take years. Everyone’s journey is different. My personal journey led me out of Christianity altogether. This is the story of that journey. It is not your journey and does not need to be; rather, it is my journey.

I had been taught all my life to take the Bible literally, to believe that God created the world in six days, that Abraham and Moses really existed and did and said what the Bible records, that every word of the Gospels was true as written, and that Paul really did tell women to submit to their husbands and not work outside of the home. The Bible, I was taught, was infallible, without error of any sort, and was my guide for life. But when I found in college that my parents’ views on evolution were wrong, and that the Biblical account of creation could not possibly be literally true, I had a problem. What was I to believe?

This was actually the point where I first questioned my beliefs about patriarchy. I had wholeheartedly endorsed patriarchy up until this point, but if my dad was wrong about young earth creationism and the literal truth of the Bible - and he made this issue the very foundation of his faith and taught it to us with a passion rivaled only by his very belief in God - I realized that something was seriously out of place. Put simply, my father was wrong. And if he was wrong about this, what else was he wrong about? And how could I submit to him and make his beliefs mine if I knew he was wrong? And with that, I let go of Christian Patriarchy.

But at this point, I had bigger problems to worry about. I had been taught I that had to take the Bible literally but now I simply could not do that. In addition, when I delved further, asking questions I had never thought to ask before, I realized that, taken literally, the Bible was wrong both factually and ethically.

First of all, not only is the Bible wrong about how the world came into being, it is also wrong in numerous particulars, such as how many Israelites left Egypt (the Bible says there were 600,000 men of fighting age, which would mean about 2,000,000 people total, but at the time there were only 6,000,000 people in all of Egypt and only about 50,000 people in Canaan) and the correct dates for the existence of the various Canaanite tribes. In addition, the four Gospels contradict each other mercilessly and contain historical inaccuracies (how many donkey’s did Jesus ride on Palm Sunday? it depends on which gospel you read. similarly, there was no empire-wide census in the days of Augustus). Sure, I had been taught to explain these things away, but I suddenly realized that those explanations made no sense when I looked at the problems honestly, and not simply out of a desire to justify my faith.

Second, I began to find that the Bible had ethical problems. God commands the Israelites to commit genocide, killing thousands of men, women, and children and wiping out entire nations. The law God gave to Moses treats women as property and even instructs fathers on how to sell their daughters into slavery. The New Testament was not immune to this either; God strikes Ananias and Sapphira dead for the simple act of lying. And this is a good, perfect, loving God? Something was seriously wrong here. And then, of course, there is the issue of sending people around the world whose only transgression is not ever hearing about Jesus to eternal torment in hell. I suddenly could not fathom how a loving God could do that.

Now that I saw the Bible as riddled with errors and filled with genocide and misogyny, I could no longer believe it was infallible in any literal sense. How was I to understand it? I had a problem on my hands. But of course, I wasn’t about to throw out the baby with the bathwater. I couldn’t very well reject Christianity - it was the core of my existence. So I set out to sift through the bathwater and find the baby. And in this process, I did what many recovering fundamentalists have done: I turned to Catholicism.

The Catholic Church admits that there are errors in the Bible, which it sees as a very human book that simply contains kernels of greater truths rather than literal truth. The Old Testament Law and the genocides were merely a tribal society’s way of understanding God, rather than being God’s actual perfect commands. This was an understanding of the Bible that I could accept, and, somehow, it made the Bible more beautiful, more rich and complex, than before. In addition, the Catholic Church teaches that Jesus came to die for all of humankind, whether they had heard of him or not. Anyone who lives life with the right heart attitude will be saved through Jesus, whether they hear of him or not. This made so much more sense. I mean, if I were Jesus, I’d die to save everyone, not just the few who might hear and believe.

And on top of that, the Catholic Church offered beauty, richness, tradition, history, and belonging. I studied the early church and found that even the earliest Christians practiced infant baptism and believed in transubstantiation. There was something beautiful about the sacraments and the ritual and the history. It fulfilled my heart’s desires. The saints became my cheerleaders and Mary my surrogate mother. I had new friends who accepted me for what I was, and did not judge me. There was comfort and contentment there. There was acceptance, and I loved it.

But unfortunately, once I had begun to think the questions kept coming. Why did the church condemn birth control? Why was masturbation wrong? Why did priests have to be celibate? Just believe, the Catholic Church said. Just accept. We know what is best. It became all too familiar. The beauty and richness was still there, but the hierarchy began to feel stifling. When I took issue with certain things in the church, super-Catholics told me I wasn’t being a good Catholic. Just believe. And I couldn’t do that.

At the same time, I suddenly found that I had other even more troubling questions. Why couldn’t God just forgive people, why did he have to have his son murdered in order to be able to do so? This made no sense. When someone hurt me, I didn’t have to have something murdered in order to forgive them. It suddenly seemed to me that Christianity was built on the foundation of actual literal human sacrifice, and I felt repelled. And besides that, how does God have a son who can come to earth and die, and yet he and this son are one being, together with the Holy Spirit? Let’s face it, the Trinity makes no sense. How do theologians defend it? “Human minds cannot comprehend the mystery of it,” they say. “Just believe.” Sorry, can’t do that, I stopped doing that a while back and I won’t do it again. If the Trinity makes no sense, it makes no sense. You can’t just make it so.

With a very human Bible and Christian doctrine that didn’t even make sense anymore, I had a problem. I began to wonder if there actually was a baby in the bathwater at all.

One thing I still held onto as proof of Christianity was my relationship with Jesus. He and I had been best friends since I was a little girl, and he was always there for me. I talked to him constantly, depended on him, loved him. He was so real to me - Christianity couldn’t possibly be wrong, could it? And then I started to realize something. Christians have set it up so that God can never fail them. Your child survives cancer? Praise God! He healed your child! Your child dies of cancer? It was God’s will, and he’s teaching you things through it. In practice, whether God exists or not is completely irrelevant. Christians don’t get sick less, they don’t have greater financial success, and studies have shown that prayer does not actually help. And as I pondered it, I realized that there was nothing about my relationship with Jesus that could not be pure imagination. In fact, that’s what it was: Jesus was my imaginary friend. And with that, I let go.

It took me almost five years from start to finish, but in the end I concluded that there was no baby in the bathwater after all. You can’t force yourself to believe something you simply don’t believe anymore, and my faith died a quiet and peaceful death. Christianity embodies some very excellent impulses - love, service to others, charity - but it no longer appears to me to be divine in any sense. I can appreciate it for its history, beauty, and tradition, but I no longer believe it. I have walked beyond the borders of religion and found that the world is still a beautiful place, filled with wonder, love, and joy. I have finally found lasting contentment and answers to the questions that before had never stopped pestering me. My journey has led me to a place that has, for me, brought freedom in mind, body, and soul. Life makes so much more sense to me now, everything all fits into place, and because I now believe I have only one life to live, I am living it to its fullest with no regrets.

Please don’t feel like this post is either my attempt to convince you to follow me down the same path or an invitation for you to try to convert me. It’s neither. You might find a baby in the bathwater even as I did not. Everyone's journey is different. I’m not asking you to either agree with what I’ve said or disagree with it; rather, I’m simply explaining my journey and asking that you accept me as I am. Or not. Because regardless of what you think, I am Libby Anne, and I am an atheist.

If you think anything I have said here is incorrect or simply want to learn more, please see Bart Ehrman’s Jesus Interrupted, Friedman’s Who Wrote the Bible, and Silberman and Finkelstein’s The Bible Unearthed. To clarify, these authors simply explain scholarly (i.e. academic) understandings of the Bible, and reading these works helped me come to see the Bible as a very human book, but none of these authors argue against faith itself. That part I did on my own. Visit my blog at http://lovejoyfeminism.blogspot.com/.