The fields are ready but the workers are few -- the urgent need to witness against organized religion

By Unborn Again Christian ~

Soon after my de-conversion from Christianity, I was very enthusiastic and zealous to spread my newfound knowledge to those around me. The first few people I got in touch with were secular friends from college who had always tried to get me to reconsider my fundamentalist Christianity. These were the people who had stood by me despite my firm stand on the bible and the gospel. One of my friends, delighted with my de-conversion, said that he always believed I had a thinking brain in me and has thought that it was only a matter of time before I abandoned my faith. I responded saying that I knew something was fishy all along. However, I could easily not let go of what I had held on to all my life. He said that the process of letting go is initiated only when you are willing to reconsider everything with an open mind. This is a profound statement. It sounds highly philosophical but has tremendous practical implications. Following this discussion with him I expressed my burning desire to witness to those associated with me. Family, friends from church and others who I thought would benefit from being enlightened. I expected him to support me but instead he tried to dissuade me, the reason being that according to him, faith was something personal and needn’t be snatched away from people. Although I agree with him to a certain extend and support freedom to choice, I am not completely convinced that leaving the issue there would be good. I got all the inspiration I got from events in the news and around me that highlighted the evils of religion. Good people committed to do evil following a divine mandate. Radical islamists blowing themselves up in public and issuing threats, radical Christians protesting against gay rights and abortion, radical Buddhists massacring muslims as an elevated state of xenophobia, etc. were all potent reasons. This was not all. I can still imagine the number of foreskins being piled up every day, the vast numbers of children being sent to Sunday school and being made to repent for their sins with the fear of torture in hell, the ridiculous parents arguing in favour of including the creation myth in science text books, and so on. Who does these things if it weren’t for religion?

Religion, even in its most benign form, is potentially harmful. I confronted many of my so-called nominal Christian friends when they refused to admit that subtle forms of religiosity could be harmful. One of my Greek orthodox Christian friends said that she didn’t follow the bible literally. Her beliefs, as she listed them, were simple- I believe in a creator, he created me and loves me and cares for me, I should treat others nicely, condemn no one, and live happily. Sounds fine? Wait it gets better. Then I asked her what her views on homosexuality were? She said that she was fine with them being around and would not say anything to offend them. So I took it a step further, I asked her what she would do if she was out with her daughter and saw two males kissing each other. She said she would be very uncomfortable and leave the place. I said- is it because you don’t agree with public displays of affection? She said yes. But then I said-you kiss your husband in public, is that ok? She said-yes men and women kissing each other is fine, but men and men kissing each other is not normal. I confronted her again saying- you just said to me a while ago that you had no issues with homosexuals, why do you show double standards now? She said- I am not against them, but I believe that this is not how it should be. I said-but there is enough evidence to support homosexuality as a genetic determination. She said- yes I know that but I still think that is not how it should be. She went on to say- if it is freely allowed, everyone would want to be homosexual, and I would not want my child to grow up in an environment which influences her behavior. I said- her environment would not change her sexual preferences, and what gave you the idea that two men cannot be together? She said- that’s how god intended it to be. Bingo! It’s that asshole again.

They spent a major part of their lives preaching the gospel, and getting to know now that what they did all this time was nonsense would harm them mentally.Incidents like these simply motivated me to reach out to more people. I tried my parents in the process. They said no amount of evidence would shake their faith and any attempt at making them see the logical flaws in the bible would be futile. I took that at face value and did not pursue them any longer. This was largely due to the fact that they spent a major part of their lives preaching the gospel, and getting to know now that what they did all this time was nonsense would harm them mentally. So I just let it go. But I got in touch with young people from church. During one of our discussions, I asked one of them- why do you think god created diseases and let them spread? I was shocked to hear the response I got. He said- god does not want us to smoke and have sex with multiple partners, therefore he created cancer and aids. Absolutely ridiculous logic stemming from complete ignorance! Why is this so? Because these people not only lack proper education (not just stuff they learn in school but wisdom and common sense) but they also hold on to the stupid book. Religion cannot be benign. It rears its ugly head when it is time to vote, legislate, make decisions, discuss rights, teach and raise children, bash silly traditions, and improve health care. A restricted world view has already been etched onto the minds of people, predominantly by culture which is almost by default based in religion.

Science has progressed drastically during the past few decades and has contributed enormously to the good of humanity. It is absolutely ridiculous that it has to be defended against religions and restricted minds. I believe that most of the readers on this forum are non-believers. We have seen the light. And we cannot keep this realization to ourselves. The more carefree we are, the more determined they will be to take over the world. We have to fight it while we can by encourage those around us to think, and broaden their minds.

Matthew 28:18-20- Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

The believers have been commissioned to fish for men. We have to put an end to this fishing before we get caught against our will.

Good luck and happy "witnessing."

Searching for answers for my life

By Laura ~

I have been on this site for the past year and decided it's time to join. I will try to keep my testimony short today but I hope to add more to the comments section as time goes on.

I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness as a child. My father was a lukewarm fence sitter who faithfully attended the meetings but didn't do much else. My mother was not a believer and my whole childhood is filled with memories of the many "debates" that took place where my parents each tried to convince each other as to how the other person was wrong. I lived a pretty sheltered life as a child, living in a rural area and being of the mindset that anybody who was not a JW, they were to be avoided as worldly.

I became rebellious as a teen (back in the 70's) and just wanted to have some fun. Started hanging out with worldly friends and got a worldly boyfriend. Even the other JW teens I hung around with just wanted to party. The summer I turned 16 my parents told me I would not be going back to high school in the fall even though I was a honours student. No sense continuing on with school as the end of the world (Armageddon) was just around the corner. I had a big fight with my mother in August of that summer and I left home at 16. I went and lived at my boyfriends parents home. I was a part of that family for about 6 years and still have contact with that family now, mostly funerals. They still accept me and I still feel a connection to them to this day. It was a large family as was my family, however the parents were alcoholics and most of the kids were drinking and using drugs. I went from not being able to really celebrate Christmas as a kid, to Christmas being a big drinking/drugging party. I remember wanting to be hypnotized so I could forget and to get rid of the fear of dying at Armageddon. I didn't get hypnotized but drugs were the next best thing. This was long before the internet. My boyfriend and I split up after about 6 years and we went our own ways. I was out on my own at 22, totally unprepared to face the world.

Hit or miss I survived even though I was very lonely and never felt that I fit in anywhere. Sometime after I left home my mother became a born again christian. By then I knew that JW's were wrong and a cult, but I didn't do much research. I thought that maybe Christians had the answer and maybe my mom had the "truth". I got married in my late 20's and had my first child at 30 and my second child at 32. I started attending a local church (Brethren in Christ) when my kids were young. I continued attending there until my husband and I separated. I quit going because I felt very judged by the church for my marriage ending. I just focused on working, surviving and raising my kids and living life. I decided to go back to church about 5 years ago but by then my kids were teenagers and there was no way they were going to go to church with me, so I went by myself. I was in a long term relationship during that time (he was not religious but did start going to church as he was searching for answers in his life too) and I felt a lot of pressure to be a good Christian and put my children first which didn't bode well for the relationship. Many breakups and emotional turmoil but now we are married (less than a year) after living separately for about 10 years.

I was very concerned about my children not being saved and tried to get them to go to church. I had some conversations with my oldest son regarding religion and he told me he would like to believe but just couldn't believe it. He actually was a part of my de-conversion. He would ask me questions and send me links to look up online which really got me thinking. By then I was going to a different church (Reformed Church of America) with my then fiance. We were both pretty involved in church life(Sundays, weeknight meetings, social outings, etc.) I started really using the internet to find answers to my questions. I decided to read my bible from start to finish. I would ask my pastor questions (for example-- JW's say they are the only true religion but isn't that what Christians and Muslims, etc. say also?) He agreed with me but for the most part just tried to sidestep my questions. Bit by bit I started to think that religion was just man made bullshit.

I had lots of doubts last summer (2012) and I was only going to church every 2nd Sunday because of a seasonal job I had. We ended up getting married in that church last August. It was quite a mix at the reception (JWs, Christians and some other normal people). I got the DJ to play certain music for example "YMCA" which JWs don't have anything to do with. I watched my JW sister-in-law dancing to that probably not even realizing she shouldn't be up dancing to that. Then my pastor up dancing until the song "Raise a little hell" came on and he slowly went and sat down. Just my way of getting a few digs in without anybody really aware. LOL.

I continued going to that church until this past October. It was Thanksgiving weekend (in Canada) and we had communion that Sunday. I remember feeling uncomfortable partaking but it was either partake or go downstairs while it was going on which would have been more uncomfortable.

This past year has been very hard emotionally. I thought the pain would never end some days. I had given up any support and most of my social life by leaving the church. A few days later it just hit me. I can't do this anymore. I sent an email to my pastor telling him I could not do this anymore and I was also giving up my volunteer position I held as a board member on a daycare they run. I also said I would not like to get into any discussions in regards to my decisions and I could not say if or when I would return. My pastor sent me an email back pretty much saying I used him and after getting what I wanted I stabbed him in the back, etc... He said they were not a cult (like JWs) and I was free to come and go. He said my struggles had to do with addictions not any damage caused by religions. All his email did was reassure me that I was making the right decision. He did recant what he said a bit through a few more emails. I think he told the rest of the church that I wouldn't be attending for awhile because of dealing with my JW upbringing. He then passed on a few names of other Christians that had been JWs. It was too late by then. He wasn't that interested in helping me before so I was already moving on.

This past year has been very hard emotionally. I thought the pain would never end some days. I had given up any support and most of my social life by leaving the church. I knew that would be the outcome. I have a few acquaintances that I still talk to a bit but when their solution is to pray for you it doesn't really help. I am now an atheist. I am now 53 years old and have spent my life in low paying jobs and hard physical labour jobs. That is the part of my life I am most angry about. Today I am free to live my life however I decide, with the time I have left. I still have lots of baggage to work through though but it's getting better. My husband also quit attending church and finds it very interesting all the information I come across on the internet. I believe the internet will be the downfall of religion if not in my lifetime, in my children's lifetime. My life would have been very different if I had this knowledge earlier. Thank you all for being here and for all the support I see here.

Youth Pastor Kevin

By youthpastorkevin ~

Thought y'all might enjoy this little series of sketches my wife and I (who met as evangelicals and quit together) made about the idiosyncrasies of youth group life.



http://www.youthpastorkevin.com/

Peace in the Middle East: A Way Forward

By Carl S ~

First of all, I wish to thank those who so well responded to my previous posting “Times Must be Difficult for True Believers.” There are times when I wonder if what l write is “preaching to the choir,” and am thereby inclined to become discouraged. I'm sure I am not alone on this. Your responses usually offer even more input to what I have written. They are experiences and commentaries I value just as much as my own.

Peace in the Middle East: A Way Forward

A peaceful Middle East is an oxymoron. A major reason for this has always been the tradition of what the national media (in fear of religion, I'm sure) refers to as “sectarian strife.” Considering that the region consists of religious sects aplenty, the infighting tradition is kindling waiting to burst into flame with every provocation, however slight. Property is destroyed, members of factions maim and murder each other, and governments are stressed out. After a war in which hundreds of thousands of lives perished, infrastructure was decimated, and the U.S. spent an estimated three trillion dollars before departing, “sectarian” violence still persists in Iraq.

Over and over, the same patterns repeat themselves, with no real resolution. Peace talks fail and accords are tenuous at best. Notice that in spite of the fact that the cause of so much violence is religious differences, no one, nowhere, in governments or media, dares to challenge religious claims to privileged status and respect, as if it has nothing to do with their problems. And this is in spite of the fact that the soil is soaked and the waters have run with the blood of believers of each of the religious factions for thousands of years, and this still continues. What is to be done?

Wouldn't the best answer to ending thousands of years of bloodshed and misery in the Middle East be to resolve sectarian differences once and for all?

Here is one suggestion: hold a religious summit in a public court of law with representatives, experts, theologians, and clergy of all the faiths. Have each and every faith and sect of that faith present their cases and the evidence for their claims. Allow all the time needed, even years if necessary, to come to conclusions. Have the best legal minds of the world available to assist them. Spare no expense. (Surely the payoff would be peace and the saving of lives, and far more has been spent throughout the centuries in warfare and civil rights abuses there.)

Weighing all the factors, let the evidence be revealed so that all will be in agreement as to what is really true, which may not be what has necessarily been traditionally believed. Let judgment be passed, based on those findings, and may that judgment stand.

Tragically, this scenario will never take place. And so, tragically, more lives will be wasted, more homes destroyed, more refugees from these nations will strain the resources of others, still more will seek asylum in countries where religion does not dominate. This scenario will not take place simply because evidence and truth have nothing to do with religious systems, any more than any other superstitions do.

You can see how such a “summit” would threaten every religion. The implicit message is this: Let the thousands suffer and die rather than openly challenge beliefs.

The problems between differing sects holding “the truth” is embodied in the inner workings of the religions themselves - and individuals who take them most seriously. Nothing is resolved, and the individuals become conflicted with their own desires, conscience, and wills, in striving to live up to their belief systems. Indeed, as the Islamic believers point out, the word “jihad” means not only a war with the forces outside the religion, but a struggle against the inclinations of one's own nature. Such a state is a pressure cooker without an adequate steam-release valve, waiting to explode in any direction, and that valve is controlled by religious leaders who decide the outlets to their advantage.

But, natural inclinations are only natural. Feelings are only feelings, neither “good” nor “bad.” It is only actions that are good and bad, with various shadings.

All the sectarian problems in the Middle East, as well as anywhere else, are man-made. Religions create problems where they damned sure ought not to be. So, it isn't just a matter of physical lives destroyed or disrupted, but mental and psychological ones as well.

Why just keep giving religions privileged status and never criticizing them? Give me a break. Too much is hanging on this war against reason, with beliefs in punitive invisible powers impeding everything worthwhile in life. Put them on trial. Drag out the claims and “evidence” into the spotlights. I want to see some guts with the media, while they still have free speech. The kind of guts we find on this site would be a start.

My Story of Leaving My Christian Beliefs Behind

By Underground Freethinker ~

After reading many others deconversion stories for the past few months, I feel I should share my story as well.

To really tell the truth, my story started long before I even considered leaving Christianity. In seventh grade social studies back in 2006-2007, we were instructed to learn about ancient civilizations such as the Egyptians, Romans, Greeks, Persians, etc. and gradually work our way through to the Columbus voyages. One of the first few things we learned was of the creation stories each civilization believed in to justify how we got here. Every time I heard one of them, I thought of how utterly ridiculous it was to believe such nonsense. Sadly, I had never thought of questioning the christian creation story that I believed in. I couldn't blame myself because I grew up in a christian family and I didn't know any better. I thought what they told me was completely true.

For me, my family and I went to an Assemblies of God church which some people in town referred to as the “culture church.” I believed everything they told me and never questioned it once. But for my own sake, my shy and rebellious personality (how does that work?) I still have even to this day. I was too shy to sing along during worship, participate in communion, or even go up front to pray. And I was too rebellious to want to behave in Sunday school after I got out of my mom's kindergarten class, in “children's church” while the sermon was being preached, or want to listen to bible stories at home during the week. If I was not forced to, I'd never have prayed before a meal, getting on the school bus in the morning, or before falling asleep at night. To simplify all this, I just wished to do my own thing and not have to be told again and again how to live in church.

When I entered middle school in 2005, I decided to join the church's Royal Ranger outpost which was the Assemblies of God's version of the Boy Scouts. Nobody told me to join, I just went because I was interested in what they had to offer. For three years I worked towards earning the Royal Ranger's highest honor, the Gold Medal of Achievement, which I did in November of 2008. To this day, I'm still grateful for learning all of the camping skills they taught me along the way. But I was required to learn more about the bible and become a “better christian” to earn the award though. At the various camping events held throughout the year, they spoke of how we needed to have our name written in the “book of life.”To accept Jesus as our lord and savior. Be filled with the holy spirit and simply be “saved.” At the time, it all seemed believable and not once did I question it. I sure wish I had, but I didn't know any better.

Fast forward to June of 2009 when I was finishing my freshmen year of high school. After much thought, I announced to the outpost I was no longer going to participate in Royal Rangers as my homework once school started in the fall would get out of control. Although it never really did unless I had a project to finish, everything was the same except for not being in Royal Rangers. But what did change at that time was I began to realize I had nothing to replace the hole where Royal Rangers had been in my life. I'd go to school during the week and return home as though nothing had happened. I became frustrated that I had no money coming in from working on the family farm. And I could not go anywhere except to church because I could only legally drive with a parent along. Since I could not see my friends outside of school, I grew colder towards my family, and I became depressed. The only “friends” I could see were the ones at church when I started going to youth group. For a time, they were people I could be around once or twice a week. Over time, I felt as though they were ignoring me because I was different than them. Some weeks when I'd go to youth group, I just didn't feel welcome at all. But through it all, I still believed what they told me anyway and didn't question it once.

During the summer of 2010, I went along on the church's yearly trip to summer camp for high school students. I had no intentions of taking in anything what they said at the services held at sunset. All I wanted to do was get away from the farm and have some fun playing sports and kayaking out on the lake nearby. But by the last night, they had finally penetrated my thick skull and I went along with what they had said. “Accept Jesus into your heart”, pray so you can be forgiven of your sins, and read your bibles everyday. They even got me to consider going to the university where the band was from. I went home at the end of the week changed into a “better christian.” I believed everything they told me and didn't question it once. And now I was taking it all very seriously.

A month later, depression began to set back in from not going anywhere or talking to anyone outside of my family and church. Every week I'd go to church and youth group as though nothing had happened. I began to fall back to how I was before going to summer camp. But I took everything they said very seriously and put it into action to still try and be that better christian I thought I wanted to be. In the end, all I had really accomplished was trying to be someone who I wasn't.

Then one day in August of 2010 while waiting for youth group to start, a group of girls came in and stood before me. At first, they were talking among themselves, but quickly changed their minds when I heard them say they were going to talk to me. In my mind, I thought they were just being nice since I was sitting there by myself. The three of them sat around me and started asking me questions like they were playing a game. But the game ended after two of the girls left to talk to other people and I was left with the third whose name was Kristi. This girl wanted to know more about me and be my friend. For what seemed like forever, we continued to talk to one another until it was time for youth group to start. I sat down towards the front of the sanctuary on the left side where I always went week after week. To my surprise, the three girls followed me and sat down next to me once again. For the rest of the night, I didn't feel depressed anymore and was actually having a good time. Afterward while my brother was in the meeting for the adults, I followed her outside to talk to her some more with her friends. And just like that, she walked over to me and hugged me quickly so “we wouldn't be caught by the others inside.” From that moment on, I loved her since she was so friendly to me even after she moved on and loved me no longer. The love for her lasted so long that some days when I see something she posted on Facebook, I'd remember those times I got to talk to her. Either way, she filled a portion of the hole in my life when I had no one to talk to personally.

When she went back home four weeks later, it was time to go back to school for my junior year. Everything was much better at school as my classes were easier for me. But the thoughts of her and trying to be a “better christian” were still on my mind. Life at home just kept getting worse by the day and I was getting tired of going to church on Sundays. Somehow, I was still okay with going to youth group. Cause on Sundays, the pastor started preaching about how we were “stealing from god” if we didn't give our money, needed to contribute more money so the church can “prosper”, and told us we were going to hell forever if we didn't do what god wanted us to do. Then one day in October of 2010, a month after finding out Kristi was in love with someone else, I felt something needed to change in my life. I finally asked a question to myself about my christian beliefs when I said, “Why even bother trying to satisfy god to be able to get into heaven when I know I'm gonna screw up and go to hell anyway? In that case, I might as well just do whatever I want.” From that moment, I knew I no longer wanted to be the “better christian” I had been told to be. I didn't fear going to hell if that's where I was going because I knew that was a long ways off anyway. And when I thought I'd have to stand before god on my way there, I'd show no fear as he told me to go to hell to impress anyone else who was there. So the next week, I didn't go to youth group at all and my mom was concerned about this because she thought something was wrong with me. I knew what I had to do, I had to get out of this church completely and never come back; to escape the “prison” my mind was held in. At the same time, I could not simply say I don't want to go to church ever, that would just anger my parents into forcing me to go back. So I made a plan and decided to “save my time” by going to my grandma's church instead. There problem solved I told myself, but I was far from being done; it was only the beginning of my deconversion. Changing churches and not caring was not going to be enough.

What was the idea of thinking for yourself without anyone interfering? Nine months go by without much thought of what I asked myself the year before. When my depression couldn't get any worse, I soon learned my brother finally decided to buy the router he wanted so the whole family could receive a broadband internet connection. From that day on, I was no longer cut off from others and there was a treasure trove of information to dive into. But Christianity was still all around me, and I still believed it all to be true. But my beliefs were changing gradually though. I still believed in god but didn't care for anything else Christianity had to offer. For months this frustrated me as I desperately tried to find what this was called on the internet. And somehow, one day I put in the right words into Google and I got an answer, deism. I quickly researched it and felt a sigh of relief that there were people just like me.

For the first six months of 2012, I was secure in the fact I had made my own decision for being a deist. Soon after, I started asking questions which revolved around whether god existed or not. This was when I started paging through all the agnostic articles I could find. I then decided to be an apatheist and leave deism behind. I asked myself, does it really matter if god is looking over us or not? No, and even if they were, I believe they are far away and do not wish to interfere at all. By the fall of 2012 and after getting a job packaging cheese, I went back to the “center” and became an agnostic. This too was short lived when I red an argument on the shortfalls of agnostics. The author completely destroyed the argument by saying if you believe there could be a god, you must first invent a place for them to be. This crushed my current beliefs of god and became an atheist who I happily am now. (Note: I hold nothing against Agnostics, I simply moved on to being an atheist.)

But that was only half of the story, what was the idea of thinking for yourself without anyone interfering? For a couple of days earlier this year in January, I researched until I found my answer, freethought. Immediately after reading the information I had on the subject, I believed this to be who I could happily be. It was as though I finally hit rock bottom ready to bounce back up. And to put it all together, I was now a freethinking atheist who was once again strong enough to “return to reality” to face my fears and challenges. What bothered me was I still didn't have enough proof to denounce Christianity just yet. Then one day while looking for an online community for people just like me, I found this site after reading an article on “religious trauma syndrome.” I must have red the article a hundred times in shock that religion was much worse than I had previously thought.

Later on I found a series on YouTube called “Discovering Religion” which I really liked. At first it was an argument between creationism and evolution for the first 15 or so episodes. By episode 18, the series started talking about how the founding fathers were deists and how the US was actually “above” god. In episode 20, they then started debunking the bible and how horrific it actually was. I just stared at my computer screen in shock. I couldn't believe how I was told all these years god is loving and just, then turns around and justifies slavery, rape, murder, and unjust wars. Allows the stoning of people to death for being gay, a rebellious son, a girl who had sex outside of marriage, working on the Sabbath, etc. And this was the beginning, how could god only spend one day on the rest of the universe while he worked solely on the earth? How could all of the animals of the earth possibly fit into the ark when there are thousands upon thousands of species? So if we are supposed to hold our morality to the level of these desert savages, does that mean women must actually keep silent and be ruled over by their husband? On and on many of us can go listing the inconsistencies and evil found in the bible. Had it not been for religion, there wouldn't have been medieval crusades to the middle east to fight the Muslims over the holy land. There wouldn't be people indoctrinated to die in the name of their religion. And there certainly would be less war if the Abrahamic religions did not exist.

During this long journey from Christianity, I have learned so much. I no longer have to believe the threats by Christians that I'll go to hell if I don't accept Jesus as my lord and savior. There is nothing wrong for having a lack of interest in religion or believing there is no god. I don't have to be like everyone else, you can choose your own path to achieve my life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Although I'll still have to do things I don't want to, at least I have the ability to choose not to be a christian anymore. As long as I can be happy for who I am, that's just fine with me. If not, then I can change, there's nothing wrong with changing yourself when you need to.

Credulity Or Critical Thinking?

by Kenneth W. Hawthorne ~

Is the phrase, "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence" (with all due respect to Carl Sagan), sufficient to describe miraculous claims and the evidence needed to prove them? (miracle, "a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency:") (extraordinary, "1 a: going beyond what is usual, regular or customary...; b: exceptional to a very marked extent," and is normally used to describe naturally occurring events that are out of the ordinary.) So it seems to me this phrase is lacking--the word extraordinary just seems too generic for this purpose.

We need a phrase that immediately and unambiguously gets to the heart of the type of evidence it would take to prove miraculous claims. Let's take the miraculous claim that a man came back to life after being dead for three days. It is more than a claim that something beyond what is usual or regular occurred; it is more than a claim that something exceptional to a very marked degree occurred. This claim is more than extraordinary it is miraculous. It is a ridiculously absurd, and preposterous claim if it is not accompanied by unimpeachable, unequivocal,irrefutable evidence. A more appropriate phrase in regard to miraculous claims such as a man coming back to life after being dead for three days, would be:Miraculous claims require unimpeachable, unequivocal, irrefutable evidence.

The New Testament  presents the miraculous claim that Jesus Christ came back to life after being dead for almost three days and says that if you don't believe it you will die in your sins (John 8:24) and suffer eternally in hell (Mt. 7:13-14). With allegedly so much on the line what kind of evidence does the New Testament give us that this miraculous claim actually happened? Unimpeachable, unequivocal, irrefutable evidence that would put an end to all doubt and thus prove this miraculous claim? Hardly. What the loving, merciful Yahweh, who allegedly is not willing that any should perish, has given us is completely inadequate hearsay testimony that this miraculous event happened.

If miracles were allegedly performed to "attest" (Acts 2:22) deity to humans in the first century A.D., in order "[to] provide...clear evidence" for them to believe in and obey this "divine agency", why would this type of evidence be withheld by God today? It is impossible for testimony (especially hearsay testimony) to even come close to the level of evidence needed for a rational person to believe miraculous claims. Is this what the God of the Universe wants from his intelligent creation--credulity rather than critical thinking? I don't think so. (By the way, I know my heart and if Yahweh is God he also knows my heart and both of us know what it would take for me to be a believer--so, what is Yahweh waiting on?)

Website: http://isitgodsword.blogspot.com/2013/06/credulity-or-critical-thought.html

Who’s Your Daddies?

By Daniel out of the Lion's Den ~

I’m reading Richard Dawkin’s book, The God Delusion. Now, I have read the entire Bible, and most assuredly have read the books of Matthew and Luke many times over. And due to enduring countless Advent and Christmas Eve services, I have listened many more times to Matthew chapter 1 ad nauseum, and Luke chapter 3 to a lesser extent... which is why this astonishes me: that I have never heard of or noticed what Dawkins describes in his chapter ‘Arguments for God’s Existence’ in the section ‘The Argument From Scripture’. He points out that the genealogy of Jesus documented in Matthew is markedly different than the one documented in Luke. Specifically, the lineage from King David to Joseph (the husband of Mary) not only contains predominantly different names, but Matthew has 26 generations from David and Joseph, while Luke has 41!

Needing to see for myself, I created the following table from the two books, showing the discrepant patriarchal lineages from David to Joseph. Since Matthew lists the lineage in descending order, while Luke’s genealogy is in ascending order, the side-by-side comparison is needed to make the contrast more evident. If this isn’t enough to indict the Bible for having contradictions, then nothing is.

The way theologians have rationalized this gaffe reveals the epitome of blind faith and refusal to believe that the inerrant Word of God does indeed contain errors. Theologians have assigned this discrepancy to the following causes:

1) The Old Testament law of taking your brother’s wife when he dies. So one list is a step-father list? And every single father, save two, died and a brother took the wife? This still doesn’t explain the 26 vs 41 generations. Comical…

2) The corresponding names are actually different versions of the same name. That is quote a stretch. But the non-corresponding names? Even more comical…

3) The Matthew list is the genealogy of Joseph, while the Luke list is the genealogy of Mary. What are we, fools? The Luke list starts with Joseph!

Why is this important? I’m sure that all of us have been told from the pulpit on many occasions concerning the importance of the genealogy of Jesus in the book of Matthew. “This proves that Jesus is the Messiah, the rightful heir to the throne! The King of the Jews, the Son of David, the Lion of Judah!” I suppose the Matthew genealogy is addressed most often because it starts out the New Testament. The Luke passage is somewhat ignored... on purpose? Might this be an indication of what I suspect, that the highly educated seminarians preaching at us week after week are cognizant of the contradictions in the Bible, but refuse to point them out due to the ramifications of what doing so might have on the collection plate?

I suppose to my credit, I have, over the years, considered Dawkin’s follow up thought – what does the lineage of Joseph matter at all, since his sperm did not fertilize the egg cell from Mary’s ovary that produced the baby Jesus (allegedly)?

The pondering of a dream that led to deconversio

By Kelsey ~

Since birth to the age of 16 I was 100% convinced that God existed, he was my father, we had a deep personal relationship, and that nothing could tear me away. Being so caught up in this belief, and having so much faith, I often spoke to God (vocally and in my head) almost every second of ever day, with the best intentions to better know my creator.

It took three years, a random dream, the most painful emotional torment my mind/body had ever experienced and intellectual honesty for me to come to my senses, and to learn what I had been denied as a Christian.

[ Here is the dream ]

I was walking barefoot in the sands of Egypt, When I came upon four monuments sitting side by side.

They came to life, and stood before me alive.

I approached them, curious and in awe.

They walked into the desert, and I followed.

After many hours, we came upon a rope hanging from the sky.

I looked up the rope and did not find a connection, it simply faded into the atmosphere.

The closest monument reached over and pulled, sending a storm of acid raid to destroy it.

The second and the third did the same, but as the fourth reached I screamed for it to stop.

I did not want it to kill itself, because I valued its existence in general.

It gave me a calm smile, pulled the rope, and crumbled into a pile of rubble before me.

I was confused about this, and wondered off to ponder what had happened. I realized that I was dreaming after a while, and in that moment the dream shifted to a wormhole.

I was in middle of a wormhole... with a liquid metallic ball in front of me the size of a basketball, and liquid colours streaming the walls so beautiful and vibrant that I do not see them awake. There was no sense of time, and I could not remember or even 'feel' when I had arrived, or when I would be leaving. A place where there was no sense of time... A glimpse of what eternity felt like.

Somehow, it ended. When? I don't know.

Remember, no time...

I was sitting in middle of space, looking out at distant stars. A giant explosion took place in front of me, trillions of miles away and sucked into itself forming a star. I looked at my right hand, where flakes of skin were stripping off and being manipulated by gravity (or something like it) into a tight ball in front of me, which then converted into stem cells and grew into a heart.

The heart beat once, and I started to think things that were not coming from me...

1. Do not fear death, death is natural.

2. When you die, what you are composed of will be recycled into the universe and in this sense, you will not die.

3. You are the universe observing itself, and in this way you are studying yourself.

---

I woke up after this, literally speaking out load what I had listed.

Remember, I was a full-hearted-God fearing-Christian when this dream happened, and this was the most impacting and vivid/Surreal dream I had ever experienced.

For the first time, ever, I questioned if maybe my thoughts on God and the bible to which I based my existence was inaccurate.

I thought: Maybe God is trying to speak to me? But why would God deny hell/heaven? Why would God say something so out of line with the bible...

Then I thought: What if Satan is doing this to me? What if he is trying to turn me against God? Oh-no...

Bringing Satan into the picture put a dead-stop on my curiosity of the dream in that moment, I was deeply afraid.

Slowly, it sunk in as to how opposite God was to me.

My love was unconditional, his was conditional.I prayed, and prayed, and prayed and begged God to give me clarity on the issue. None was given.

In my desperation to not let this dream tear my beliefs apart, I researched all that I could to prove the existence of God, Jesus Christ, and the biblical events that had been sworn to be the truth.

Honesty was my greatest virtue, and I would defend the 'truth' to the very fiber of its being.

As well(in the course of three years) I read the bible front to back, out loud to myself to dedicate as much memory as possible to the text. It was within reading the bible, that I discovered that I disagreed with God's morality.

Slowly, it sunk in as to how opposite God was to me.

My love was unconditional, his was conditional.

My love was based off of trust, and the desire to improve the quality of other human beings / Animals / Others in general through the act of Empathy, patience, and continuing support and understanding. His love required belief without evidence, and obedience without question. All the while still claiming to love those whom he threw in an endless torment of hell, and refused to assist or improve the quality of life of those who dwell in this life. Even when the most faithful reached up to beg him for assistance. (Something about this was very wrong.)

I valued who I was, and who others were.

He devalued humanity all together, claiming we were sinful by nature. (If this were true, why did he make us this way? Why does he continue to allow it? How could you create something imperfect and then turn around and punish it for being so?).

This alone was enough for me to be upset. To be angry, and feel betrayed. I still believed him to exist, but I was disappointed, and hurt.

So I took a lonely walk into the woods one night, sat on the foot path for about an hour pondering on what to say, wondering if my deep sense of morality and intellectual honesty were more important than the threat of eternal damnation.

And I thought... A loving God would not damn me for being honest. A loving God would not condemn me for standing up for the truth and for wanting to be sure of me decisions.

I stared long and hard at the star filled sky that night, and I reflected on my dream about being apart of the universe observing itself.

That is when I realized who God was, where he was, and why it was so difficult to let go.

God was me.

This whole time... I was talking to myself.

Finding Peace in my own Mind

By StainedGlass ~

Let me start by thanking this community on Ex-C for being so open, honest, and supportive. The seeds of doubt in Christianity were planted at least 4 years ago, but honestly, 6 days ago, my complete de-conversion happened entirely by accident.

Let me share a bit about me (or a lot!) I was raised by Christian parents in a large, close-knit, "sheltered" (isolated) home. My father was a second generation Christian, and my mother a first generation Christian. Therefore, she was the most fundamental. My father was always very easy going, and my favorite parent. My mother had the most "sin passed down" that she was struggling to overcome.

As many Christian families do, my family started out as fundamentalist baptist, and I was taken to church and taught right from wrong since the time I was one year old. My memories of scripture verses are as old as my memories of my mother rocking me to sleep. These are memories that I still deeply cherish, experiences that shaped my very psyche.

I can remember in vivid detail standing up in my crib in my bedroom. It had dark red walls, and the curious glow of the nightlight. I will always remember the red walls because I associate them with my mother's voice quietly telling of the blood of Jesus, the sacrifice for sin. It was truely an indoctrination, a brainwashing. Now, I know it was, because the very teachings that I loved, also trapped me. I loved them because I was told to love them, because it was all I knew. I because trapped when my brain started to grow and I realized that the teachings didn't make any sense. In fact, they directly contradicted my own sense of developing morality and values. Even so, my deep memories of the story of Jesus are so ingrained, that I will always feel a warmth when I remember celebrating Christmas with my family, lighting the candles, and chanting, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me, will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." I believe the main reason I clung to Christianity for so long was because my family created so many positive traditions. My parents were, for the most part, loving and sincere, trying to teach us the right way to live, and become better people themselves.

My earliest memories of church, however, are not so positive. It almost seemed like our pastors were playing a game to see who could yell the loudest and longest! Just about every sermon ended because the pastor had lost his voice, was sweating profusely, and was so worked up emotionally that he was either crying or beating the pulpit with his Bible. I very quickly learned about the anger of God, and how punishing human sacrifice pacified his wrath. It would be completely honest to say that I learned about the justice of murder before I learned that murder was wrong. what I remember most vividly about that time is that I had a friend who was the pastor's daughter. He was caught in adultery, and her home was thrown into turmoil. My friend slowly drew away from the church and became an atheist. She was the first person I actually knew, who did not believe in God! I was curious, but she shut me out of her life, so I didn't get the chance to find out about what she believed.

When I was around 17 years old, my parents decided that in the best interest of the entire family, we had had enough of the yelling, Bible-beating, fire and brimstone teaching. My brothers and little sister needed a supportive, relevant, exciting youth group, and my parents were withering spiritually. I definitely think they have all the same doubts as I do, but they won't allow themselves to explore them to their fullest extent. My father, especially, felt that the family needed a closer experience of God. My father has had a huge impact on my life, and it has been all good, save for one instance. He taught me was true love is by always being quick to forgive, but always being constant in his expectations. I always hated it when I did something that angered him, not because I was afraid of him, but because I hated to see his disappointment in me. He was the truest example of a father God that I could ever imagine. My father, however, did not believe in genocide. I suppose my mind took a while to realize how inconsistent the Bible is.

My father obtained a bachelors in theology and a minor in Greek. He thought he might become a pastor, so he attended seminary. He did not finish because he had a family, and the Dean would not allow him to extend his studies so he could take school a little slower. In my dad's words, the dean made him choose between his ambition and his family. He chose his family without hesitation. For this and many other reasons, I will always love my father more than any other person. He led us to a church that was large, vibrant, and theologically much more logical. It was a nondenominational church, but Charismatic/Arminian in doctrine. I found that many of my early doubts were satisfied by the Arminian viewpoint, and I could once again trust in a loving God. I worshiped in fervent love to a moving, contemporary band, and stood with thousands of people, raising my hands to send healing towards ailed individuals. This is the part of my Christian life that I loved. I love being positive, happy, and healthy, and accepting others, no matter what state they come in. It was not this church that continued my doubts. My experience of Christianity there was very genuine and non-judgmental. I saw many of my parents' burdens lifted. They grew younger before my eyes. They did not worry about money so much, and my mother began to realize for the first time that she needed to take more time off from work to relieve her stress. At the time, I attributed this to a renewed connection with the Divine and all that he offers.

When I was 19, I joined the Navy. I'm not sure why, but I wanted to escape from my bubble of reality. Most of my friends had left for college or the military. I went to college near home for a year and a half, then lost my job and was left with a dilemma. I was earnestly seeking God to find his path for my life. Since I was a young child, I have been a loner, a passionate artist and thinker. I would draw and write every day, as well as playing the piano and reading. I read so much it was as natural as breathing. I loved to learn about culture, language, religion, and mythology. And that, my friends, is a lethal combination for a Christian. Eventually a thinking, imaginative mind will question, and will come to conclusions independent of Christianity. My sisters and I often imagined things about the afterlife, or extraterrestrial life outside the earth. We always limited our imaginings to confines of the young earth Creationist story.

Shortly before I left for boot camp, I began to be plagued by doubts in traditional Christianity. I started researching early Christianity. I immersed myself in my father's library, which was a Christian reader's paradise. It was filled with countless translations of the Bible, even some in the original Greek, the Gnostic gospels, ancient history books, and even books on hermeneutics and exegesis, written by my own great uncle, Moises Silva, a renowned professor. My father is by no means an ignorant, nor small minded man. If there was any truths to be uncovered, it would be in the library of my father, the most honest, truth-seeking person I know.

I read as many of these books as I could. I came to one conclusion: there were too many contradictions and varying opinions. How did I know that the canon was the inspired word of God? That is was my doubt came down to. I was smart enough to know that if I could not prove this to myself, my Christianity was unfounded and mythological. I wanted to believe in Jesus. I needed to, because my belief encompassed my entire life up to this point. I was anti-social, judgmental, and a perfectionist, thanks to my beliefs, and I knew I could not survive in the real world. I suppose signing up for the military was my way of testing my faith, and I didn't realize that until now.

Interestingly, my studies of early Christianity only pointed me toward Catholicism. I considered that maybe the Gnostic gospels held some hidden truth, but I never did read them. I still plan to. Even back then, however, I knew that when I read them I would consider them bogus, and it would be because I had already been taught to think otherwise. I was beginning to understand the hypocrisy of it all. I began to research Catholicism, because it seemed like it might be the answer. I made close friends with a catholic family. I admired their lifestyle; it was organic and innocent. They lived on a farm and one of their sons wanted to be a monk. I could never imagine that, because I wanted to have sex. I spent a lot time with them on the farm, learning about their beliefs. In a way, it attracted me, because it was much more clear cut. You sin, you get punished. So, you confess to the priest. You live a good life, and you go to heaven. I was leaning towards this when I left for boot camp.

I stayed a Christian all through boot camp, but it fell away completely when I attended my secondary training. I suppose it was because I was completely removed from my background, and had no reason to adhere to my faith. My backsliding began when I became truly attracted to man for the first time. Of course, we ended up having sex, and that began a whole new journey of guilt, and a subsequent relapse into Christianity to rid myself of the guilt. My parents, when they finally found out, were very disappointed, though they were actually very loving and not that angry. At the time, I planned to stay with this man, because he was my first love and I could not imagine leaving him. I was so innocent. I distinctly remember my father telling me over the phone that he would pray for me to be miserable so I would return to Christian life. I sometimes wonder if, had he not said that, maybe I would have returned by myself, with no hard feelings or pressure, and then I would have left again, just as easily. I tried to be a Christian again, however, because I wanted to feel connected to my family again, and I wanted to feel innocent again. I suppose my love for my religion has had a lot to do with those two things.

The Christianity did not last long, however. Shortly after I got my first orders, I moved to Spain. I don't know how this was supposed to help me keep my first relationship, but I think I was again doing something that made no sense to force myself to find my own truth in life. My boyfriend broke up with me of course. He had never loved me, and I recognized him for the deceitful, opportunistic man he was. This was the most painful time of my life. I completely shut God out of my life. I became so depressed I was suicidal. I wished the airplane taking me to Spain would crash and I would die. The following seven months were the hardest of my life, because I did not want to live. There was one person who supported me, a guy I met by chance at my new place of duty. We connected immediately as friends and we talked for hours. He was an atheist, and it was very refreshing to me because I knew he could see me more honestly and realistically than any Christian. He told me the truth when I could not acknowledge it, about my own struggles and his. He saved my life, because when I felt like hurting myself, I would go knock on his door and he would tell me not to do it. He didn't give me any reason, he just told me I was being stupid, and if I ever felt like being stupid, I needed to come and find him. He made sure I sat there until he could tell that I was feeling less crazy. I am not sure what he saw in me, but shortly after we started dating and now we have been dating for a year and a half. I trust him the same way I trust my father, and that is a good thing. We will shortly be engaged.

I wanted to believe in Jesus. I needed to, because my belief encompassed my entire life up to this point. I was anti-social, judgmental, and a perfectionist, thanks to my beliefs, and I knew I could not survive in the real world.My relationship with the man who I intend to spend my life with is what caused me to make a decision about my faith. For the two years that I have been in the Navy, I have been consumed by the military game. By working hard I have gained 4 pay grades, lead many people, and accomplished many things. The one thing I have done, without question, is lost myself. About a year ago I realized I could not draw or write anymore, and I could not sit still enough to read. I had no peace in my mind, no inkling of inspiration. I filled my emptiness with work, sex, and drinking. Soon, I got tired of drinking, and sex becomes a bit more comfortable with a steady partner. Work got extremely boring and frustrating. I yearned for my old passions, and this drove me to slow down considerably. I faced my inner struggle concerning God, and the fact that I am in a relationship with a non-believer, which has always bothered me. I started doing yoga, meditating, walking on the beach, and re-connecting with my intuition. This took the form of re-connecting with God, or at least, that is what I thought was happening. I began to listen to that still small voice again. It spoke to me about what was wrong inside my hearth. It told me I needed to be close to nature again, as I have always loved to do. I found healing in walking barefoot in the grass at twilight. I went through various problems with my hormones, and began taking natural herbs to help balance them out. I began to get a grasp on peace once again. The still small voice told me I needed to talk honestly with my boyfriend, no matter what it was I wanted to say. It told me not to care so much about work, and to express myself, however I needed to.

I thought the still small voice was God, so I sat down with my bf and explained that I needed to have a relationship with God again. I didn't know what it meant, exactly, but i was just going to go with it. He has actually been telling me for a while to go back to church. That is how distressed I have been: an atheist telling an almost ex-Christian to go back to church? My boyfriend said something else profound. We laid there, and I poured out my heart and my honest beliefs about Christianity. At one point, I told him that I was afraid that one day we would die, and I would never see him again. My boyfriend began crying as I talked. I was so touched, I had never seen even a Christian react that way to the topic of death and hell. He said, "That is the most touching thing anyone has ever said to me." I was thinking, wow, I guess your family wasn't very loving.
He then proceeded to tell me that even though he was an atheist, he would attend church with me if I wanted, and he would learn about religion with me. He said he would consider becoming religious if it would make me happy, and if it meant he could stay with me.

Thinking about this conversation makes me want to cry. It is one of those moments that I know has shaped my life. The least I can say is that I am in awe of my boyfriend's love for me, and this is exactly why I am going to marry him.

I was happy for a couple days, and felt an incredible peace. I finally had what I wanted. I could be a Christian without judgement from my partner, and he would even participate with me, even in the smallest amount. I had peace that I would not go to Heaven alone.

Now we come to the accident part. I was researching, of all things, the influence of the moon's magnetic field on the earth, and I stumbled upon a Wiccan website. I was interested because my boyfriend's mother is a witch. I began to read, and that led to more reading, and to a final realization that I should have acknowledged many years ago: Christianity is a myth, just like every other religion that I have judged. It is man made, a product of human development. This resolved all of my previous attempts to harmonize the irreconcilable passages of the Bible, or to excuse God's genocidal nature. It was completely logical, and I love things that make sense. It also freed me from all of my previous guilt about my relationship with my boyfriend, and allowed me to appreciate him fully and anticipate my life with him. Most of my old fear of hell is gone, from years of doubt, and that still small voice, I finally realized, is my own intuition, guiding me to the truth. As I matured, it matured. What I though was the spirit of God was simply my brain developing and learning emotional responses as I grew older. God was not getting closer, I was expanding. I could finally see myself in my total capacity: free, here, now, and unencumbered. This is the life I always wanted. Since I have made this realization, I have been completely at peace. No more doubt, no more seclusion. I feel this incredible freedom to go up to my friends and talk to them, to appreciate everything in my life. My family does not agree, but my "lost" status is nothing new. I just cannot understand how my wise father and sisters do not realize the same things by now. Maybe someday soon.

What I learned through deconverting (and funerals)

By Tania ~

It has been about 2 ½ years now since the start of my deconversion.

I had been having questions and doubts about many of the Christian doctrines for years leading up to this, and I'd had many struggles with God and my relationship with Him; yet at these times, I sensed that these things were just building blocks to a stronger Christian faith, and I worked hard to become “the kind of person God wants me to be.”

In January 2011, something snapped. It was something small, in the scheme of things, and looking back on it now, I'm grateful for how things worked out in the end. But, nonetheless, I believe that it was the thing that marked the start of my unbelief in a God who intervenes in the lives of His children. What happened was small: I was interested in a young man; I felt that God had placed him into my life and that we would end up together, eventually, as husband and wife; said man expressed, three months into my infatuation with him, that he was not interested in me. And this hurt. It hurts to be rejected. And it hurt that it had seemed like such a “God thing,” only to be crushed. I remember going into my bathroom and looking at myself in the mirror, crying, angry, asking, “Really? Really, God? What are you doing? What ARE you doing? Where are you? Are You even there?”

It seems like a small thing. It was a small thing. But, also, it wasn't really a small thing. I've heard that it often isn't long after we start doubting God's goodness that we start doubting His existence. And that is what happened with me. It really had nothing to do with the young man, because just months later, I was over him. But it was a spark, a starter to my deconversion.It made me look back on other events in my life and consider whether things that had happened were, in fact, acts of God; it made me replay things that happened and see where – if – God fit into them. And more often that not, I couldn't place my finger on how God was really and truly involved.

I was accepted into a school program in June 2011, and I remember smiling as I re-read the acceptance letter. And two seconds after that, I remember thinking, “Oh, right, I have to thank God for this!” Or did I...? Was it Him? Was it me? Was it just life unfolding as it will? I was grateful for the acceptance letter, but for the first time in a long time – or perhaps ever – I wasn't quite so certain to whom I should direct my thanksgiving.

That summer, I delved into all kinds of books that I thought would steer me back towards the God in whom I was starting to doubt. I'd read many, many books over the years by Christian authors. But those books just didn't seem to be addressing my bigger questions. A lot of them seemed repetitive, superficial, comforting, yet...questionable. And so I did the unthinkable and read Harris. Dawkins. Dennett. Gretta Vosper. Victor Bugliosi. I read about psychology, philosophy, death, agnosticism, atheism, creation versus evolution, cognitive dissonance, Osiris, hell, Islam, Buddhism, Mary, prayer....and then one hot summer night, around 2am, sitting at a little table in my living room, a paper and a pen in front of me, the thought struck me, “What if, just what if...God's not there?” And I prayed. And I thought. And I wrote. And I prayed. And I read. And I eventually went to bed, knowing very well that something big had just happened.

Since that time, it seems as though there has been an overwhelming number of events that took place and a lot of changes – in my life, in my mind – that make me realize that I will never be the “believer” I once was. I can no longer label myself in the same ways I did before.

The things that have happened in my life are by no means remarkable compared to what other people have gone through, of course, but they have changed who I am in way I never imagined.

In September 2011, I started taking courses for funeral service – funeral directing and embalming – which involved online studies and seminars across the province. A few months later, in January 2012, I left a job I'd been at for six years, and moved two and a half hours south to work in a funeral home. Shortly after my move, I met, became friends with, eventually fell in love with, and was engaged to a man who turned my world upside down, who made me laugh like crazy, who made me see the world in unique ways (he has a brain injury and is in a wheelchair), with whom I learned what it's like to actually relax and have fun - a foreign concept to me lately. (After a brief whirlwind of an engagement, we called off plans for marriage, and at this time, we are not together.) At the funeral home, among countless other things, I had the opportunity to assist with embalming, meet with many families who had just experienced the death of a loved one, do transfers at all hours of day and night, talk with coroners and funeral directors and nurses, help set up the lowering device at the cemetery, assist with cremations, expand on my hospice volunteering experiences, add to thoughts about what I want my own death and life to look like.

And sometime in between all that, I had countless conversations with people who have either deconverted from their religious backgrounds or who were never affiliated with any particular religion. I struggled with the despair that often comes when life becomes too much to handle, when things look absolutely hopeless, when all things that used to be enough to help get through difficult things no longer are enough, when facing the day or the hour seems impossible. Without intending to, I lost quite a lot of weight – for the first time in my life, being distressed made me lose all interest in food, rather than binging like I used to. I became angrier than usual – at life, at God (who I didn't really believe in anymore), at my employers, at the man I was dating, at myself. I yearned for sleep, for rest, for silence, for life to slow down or just...end.

I think that at times, the universe or something or Someone out there senses that we need to be lifted out of where we are, and we are forced to uproot. After ten months at the funeral home, I left my job. A few things happened in the relationship between my fiance and me, and we decided to call off the engagement. I moved to another city, a bit closer to my hometown, where I started a job doing what I was doing before, working as a food service worker in a nursing home.

I'd like to say that it's gotten easier over time, but in many ways, it hasn't. The full impact of what this change in my “status of faith” has had on my life seemed to have hit a while ago...and then I later realized that it could hit a bit more...and then I realized it could it a bit more. I have learned to let go of former beliefs, to accept that our journeys of faith are, as is all of life, not stagnant, to appreciate beauty and nature and goodness in wonderful new ways...but there is a certain hurt there that persists and that, at this time, I don't think will ease up for a while.

I've learned a lot since that winter when I starting questioning all things "God." Working in the funeral home taught me a lot about the fragility of life, about holding our relationships above everything else in our lives, about embracing the beauty and mystery of death. M reassured me that I am still a good person and that I'll still make it to heaven (if there is a heaven). My friend AN reminded me recently that God (if He's there) exists outside the walls of a church, that other people aren't in a place to preach to us what exactly we “need” to believe, and that I will eventually find my niche when it comes to this journey of faith.

As I've learned from others who are in the same place as I am in regards to deconverting from a faith, it is not something I would have chosen – it had not been my intent for things to let go of the God I knew. What I have learned is that I do have choice in how to go about making the most of life's happenings, both the wonderful and the heart-breaking. I've learned that until we've walked many, many kilometers in someone else's shoes, we are in no place to judge them. I've learned that love, above all, is what counts, and that it looks past labels, doctrines, and worldviews that only make up a small fraction of who we really are.

The Ark, Mercy, and Those You Love

By Carl S. ~

A large painting hangs in the foyer of a local church. It depicts pairs of large animals ascending a ramp into a huge ark. I doubt that there is any member of our society who has not heard the story of Noah's ark.

Every child who is taught that the tale is true knows its details. This story is dropped into their laps, and the story-tellers move on to other subjects, avoiding any questioning or analysis as to what it signifies for good behavior in children and their parents. Illustrated children's books including the story, and toy sets with ark and animals, are sold in secular stores, further supporting the story as actual fact. So great is its influence that not only paintings but stained glass windows and TV “documentaries” present it as a real event, as the “Search for Noah's Ark” programs attest. (Why the search for Noah's ark and not the search for the Emperor's New Clothes? You may notice that story is not in the bible. If THAT story WAS in the bible, you can bet your paycheck the same people would be searching for THEM.)

The ark is as familiar as the cross, and the two are immorally connected. Both symbols represent horrendously extreme solutions to relationship problems. One might compare them to the “solutions” of WW II, with bombings of thousands of innocent civilians on both sides of the conflict, culminating with the destructions of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Except, those solutions were by desperate men who believed that “all is fair in war;” Men who saw and found themselves with limited alternatives under the circumstances. What if there WAS an alternative, as offered in H.G. Well’s “Things to Come,” of putting everyone to sleep for long enough to take over peacefully? Would not someone with the power to actually implement such a solution do so as an alternative? In fact, this would be the MERCIFUL solution.

I would like a believer, or better yet, the pastor, to stand before me as I look at this painting, because I want to ask, “What is the LESSON of the Flood you are teaching children?” Or more specifically, “Just what IS the MORAL lesson of this story?“ Because, the lesson of the story has nothing to do with humans in material conflict, at war with a god. There is no way a god of mercy would be threatened by their actions, to evoke such a “revenge” as mass genocide. What is the purpose of drowning children and pets and all animals and vegetation?

Are God believers teaching children that this genocide is a morally acceptable response; that it is morally a better solution than negotiating? Are they telling them that even the innocent were guilty by association, as they tell them THEY would be by merely associating with those who thought the opposite of what they are being taught? Do they tell the children that, according to the text, humanity had no warning and that after this alleged event the god admitted he made a mistake; that he should have realized human nature was not going to change simply because he drowned mankind? Or do they, instead, tell them that he knew all along what he was doing and not to question his “wisdom?”

When it comes to a choice of punishments and tests of trust in him, this God will pick the most horrendous: volcanic fiery eruptions (Sodom and Gomorrah), earthquakes swallowing unbelievers, the trials of Job, mass drownings, crucifixion, hell, all the total opposite of merciful. Because of all of these stories that are taught to have moral lessons, and the punishments in them, I can only conclude that the entire book has lost all claims to morality. The main lesson I can conclude is this: THIS GOD LOVES HAVING HUMANS SUFFER.

When we think of MERCIFUL, the Ark and the Cross are symbols contrary to mercy. Whether the prolonged drowning of the human race or the torture and killing of an innocent man, these are the preferred solutions of the biblical deity. (I've been thinking of merciful solutions to even the most heinous of crimes. Opposition to cruel and unusual punishment is not on this particular deity's - nor many of his disciple's - list of alternatives.)

Only psychotics and the fabricated God depicted in scriptures can keep killing without mercy or feeling bad about itMy mother used to have a saying she repeated whenever she heard of someone dying from a stroke, being struck by a car or lightning bolt, etc. She said, “He never knew what hit him.” Sixty years ago, as a monk, I walked with two other monks inside a building under construction. Moments later I found myself in the arms of one of them, outside the building. I was told that a scaffold broke loose, swung down and hit me in the head, and knocked me unconscious. I was informed that if there had been a structural part of the building behind my head, it would have been caught between the two and I would be dead. Years later it dawned on me: I would have “never known what hit me!” That would have been a “merciful” way to go. (Now, some will say to me, “God wanted you to live; he had plans for you.” Well, I'm living and writing this anti-God commentary, “mysterious-way” style.)

The day after the funeral for Edna, my brother's common-law wife of over thirty years, my wife's relatives went out to dinner with him, my wife, and me. Across from me at the table was my sister-in-law, Sue. I described to her how Edna had died at the hospital; it was up to my brother to terminate medical support for her at a certain stage, with the advice of her physicians who were in attendance, and as per her will. Before he did this, he said, ”Goodbye, Edna.” She looked at him and, with a smile, said, “Goodbye.” Sue smiled at me and said, “That was a blessing.” This is the same woman who was in a hospital room when her 30's - aged nephew, Tony, died spewing blood in agony. I was tempted to ask Sue, “Would you then say that Tony's death was a curse?” Where was the ‘blessing’ for such a fine man? (She probably would have said, along with the Catholic bishops, that his suffering was “redemptive.”) Such B.S.

The reason it should be against our natures to accept Bible-god “solutions” has to come from the fact that we normally love others too much to accept such cruelties. Soldiers return from Iraq and Afghanistan with serious emotional problems; it ISN'T normal to kill another human being. Only psychotics and the fabricated God depicted in scriptures can keep killing without mercy or feeling bad about it.

You and I will be described, because we are gods-less, as immoral, by those who believe in this God. I hope the examples I've given will show just the opposite to be true. If we were gods, you and I could come up with more merciful ways to die: euthanasia (should I be any less caring on this decision for another human being than I would be for my pet?), being struck by lightning , or a stroke ( especially after intercourse), i.e., ”never knowing what hit you?” Why make “explanations” for the “merciful God,” playing games with lives? Pure claptrap. No, I'll take god-free Nature over making matters worse for others with such “explanations.” For no matter what, reality will out: you can depend on reality to be honest. Unlike Christianity.

It's time to pack up this god, like previous cruel ones, and his ark, his precious cross, genocides, and “mercy.” With “friends“ like Bible-god, who needs enemies?

The Thorn in My Flesh

By Raven Nightsong ~

"And to keep me from being puffed up and too much elated by the exceeding greatness (preeminence) of these revelations, there was given me a thorn ([a]a splinter) in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to rack and buffet and harass me, to keep me from being excessively exalted." [2 Corinthians 2:7]

I am coming to realize that I have a MASSIVE thorn in my flesh, and it has a name - Christianity!

This MASSIVE thorn in my flesh has another name - Religious Trauma Syndrome! [More information on that can be found at - http://journeyfree.org/rts/]

I realize that I am having a delayed reaction to leaving Christianity. I didn't deal with it when I left because things happened quickly, and those things made leaving somewhat easy... even pleasurable.

But I also realize that those things caused me to repress ALOT of emotional and spiritual yucky mucky's in leaving Christianity. I didn't allow myself to process what I had just done, and because of that, for almost 3 years, I consciously and unconsciously, blended Christianity into everything I have done.

In many ways I went from a type of "babyhood" of being told what to do and when to do it for 40 years straight into "adulthood" of discovering that there is this woman lurking inside of me and I have NO CLUE who the hell she is!

No "childhood" phase. No "preteen" phase. No "teen" phase. No "early adult" phase.

Just from "babyhood" to "adulthood" in the blink of an eye thanks to my "WTF!?" moment.

Like Eve in the Garden of Eden, I had been told not to eat of the Tree, and like Eve, I heard the voice of the Serpent who opened my eyes.

My "tree" was this realization that I don't know who the hell I am. I had been wrapped up in this creation of other people's making. And I am NOT just talking about on a personal level like from family and friends but also on a mainstream USA level.

The shift of December 21, 2012 did something in me to bring this to the surface, and I know that I cannot progress until I deal with this. Ahhh but dealing with this, my dear Reader, is easier said than done.

Intellectually, I "get it" but my heart and spirit are taking a beating from it.

It has caused me MASSIVE moments of anguish and despair to the point of having MASSIVE panic attacks.

The wonderful part about this is knowing that there are others out there like me. Ex-Christian.net has been a HUGE blessing to me. It helps me know that I am NOT alone and others go through this every fricking day! Because IF I didn't know there were others, I would think I am going quite mad and need to be locked away!

Not everyone who has been in Christianity goes through this. I think that majority of us who do is because we were either born into it, or we accept it later in life and end up pouring our heart and soul into it.

Those who comes to it later in life describe Christianity as filling a void in their life, like something was missing, and here comes the "key words", and they often describe being a Christian as "finally finding acceptance and approval".

But acceptance and approval of whom???

Example: I am sure that many of you, my dear Readers, are familiar with the phrase, "jailhouse religion". A person goes to jail or prison and all of the sudden "finds God". For their time in lock up, they are committed Christians. When they get out, the majority will revert to their former beliefs with in a few years.

Ask them why and you will get the answer of, "I just wanted to be accepted".

The way mainstream society in the USA is set up, Christian is equal to being accepted and approved... not necessary by God but by the culture. Being a Christian means you are part of a greater whole and thereby you have some value or worth.

If you are a former convict/felon, being a Christian and giving your testimony means that you don't have to take responsibility for your actions but you can lay all the blame on poor ol' Satan, and because this damnable entity was in control of your life, you are not responsible for your actions thus you are good enough to be part of the group... which within the USA mainstream culture is Christianity.

So you immerse yourself into Christianity because you want that ultimate acceptance and approval from the greater whole.

If you put one toe out of line, you are avoided like some kind of rabid animal... or either made an example of what a "good Christian" gone wrong looks like.

The pressure to conform to mainstream standards is horrible. It effects every portion of your life, and being a "former Christian" makes it more difficult since you don't feel you are worthy, or acceptable, to God.

You feel degraded.

God is NOT a ChristianYou know somewhere in your subconsciousness that the only "God" in Christianity is the Christians themselves who have created this image of "God", and you know that the "real" God is much bigger and broader in perspective.

God is NOT a Christian.

God doesn't have a religion. Man created religion.

Yet at the same time there is this MASSIVE war inside of you with the brainwashing and the reality.

This war inside of me is horrible, and I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

I share all of this with you, my dear Reader, because there are others out there who are coming out of a mainstream religion into things like Witchcraft, Wicca, Paganism, Luciferianism, Atheism, etc., and like me, they struggle with it.

It is my hope that by sharing these things with you that you, my dear Reader, will know that you are NOT alone, and that you will find encouragement as well as peace on your journey.

And so, my journey continues.....

[NOTE: I have been lurking around this site for a while now, and I wrote this post on my blog but really felt that it would be worth sharing with all of you.]

Website: http://theawakeningwitch.blogspot.com/