Skip to main content

A Heartfelt Reply

By Tania ~

Recently I received an email/sermon from a somewhat-young-to-middle-aged person in my circle of friends and family members. The email arrived in my inbox not completely out-of-the-blue, because we’d talked briefly on the phone about a week before and we generally do keep in contact somewhat regularly. But the intensity of the message was a surprise to me. I read it a few times, my thoughts ranging from, “This is a joke! Right? This must be a joke!” to “Oh, wow, so this is the mindframe with which this person is operating,” to “It seems that my decision, months ago, to back away from this relationship still seems to the best decision for now.”

The writer of the email started off strong, asking if I still have certain virtues in my life. The writer knows that I used to be a Christian, and now I am not. (During the past several years, the writer has brushed aside my efforts to explain my reasons for leaving religion.) He/she then mentioned that he/she thinks I am a good person and that I do good things for others, but it is in vain because I am doing these good things with the wrong intentions (I don’t know how this conclusion was reached). The writer went on to say that he/she is concerned that I have been placing too much emphasis on things such as reasoning, human interpretations, science, and other such things. The message ended with a reminder that our lives are fragile and weak. There was a brief sign-off, but no “Have a nice day!” or “Talk to you soon :)”

Sigh. Pause. What do I do with this?

I kept my reply brief. I know the tendencies of the writer to become critical and defensive, and I know that it is useless for me to launch into a long explanation about how I choose to live my life. I sent it and tried to forget about the whole thing, but for me, it’s not so easy to just move on.

Here’s what a lengthy, heartfelt reply might have looked like:


Dear _____,

Thank you for taking the time to write to me. I wish, though, that instead of sending me a sermon, you would have at least replied to my lunch invitation a few weeks ago and also many invitations over the last several years. I have been slowly learning to stop asking, because it hurts me too much to hear “No” or to be ignored almost every time, for no reason that I can understand. We could have caught up on each others’ lives. Did you pass that exam? Are you taking time off this fall? Any good books on the go? You could have seen my new apartment. Maybe the Handy-Man would’ve dropped by and you could get to know him a bit more. Maybe you could’ve looked at the photos on my fridge and seen a tiny glimpse of my world.

You asked me if I still have the virtues of grace, mercy, love. Yes, I do. No, I don’t live them out perfectly in every moment of my life, but I’m sure we’d all be hard-pressed to find someone who does. People mess up. People hurt and get hurt. People need to redeem and be redeemed over and over. My desire to be a good person did not go out the window just because I no longer believe in virgin births and resurrections from the dead. I do “good deeds” because it makes me happy and it makes other people happy. It seems like the natural thing to do in most cases, and I don’t feel like I am “going out of my way.” People help me, and I help people — it’s often that simple.

I know that many times over the past couple years, I mention the things that I’ve learned — that the moon is 384,400km from Earth and has a diameter of 3,474km, or that so many animals migrate every year (my favourite migration: the wildebeests!), or that the Laurentide ice sheet covered much of Canada several times in the past. I talked about how cool it was to go to the Deutsche Museum when I was in Germany, and how eye-opening it was to visit Pearl Harbour in Hawaii and the new Human Rights museum in Winnipeg. In your email, your remarks implied that I am placing emphasis on “studying and knowledge” instead of on such things as love and mercy. The mental gymnastics to make sense of this are too challenging for me, so let me just say that these things can all co-exist. They don’t cancel each other out. I guess back when I was a Christian, I also saw things in such a polarized way — either you love Jesus and are filled with good “Christian” virtues, or you study science and become a cold and hard person — but I no longer see it that way.

You reminded me in your email that our lives here on Earth are “weak and feeble.” I know. I am very well aware of that fact. Remember how I used to do bedside vigil for people in the last stages of their lives? Maybe I didn’t tell you about those conferences I went to with other volunteers from the hospice society? Remember when my friend Pat died and I’d spontaneously burst into tears in the days afterwards? Oh, I am so aware that all of us — me, you, everyone — live without guarantees of next year, next month, next week. That’s a scary and beautiful thing about our relationships and all of life.

I am trying to understand why you sent me a sermon, why you seem to pick apart my character and my life. I am trying to understand why you’ve seemingly been avoiding me in real life for quite a while now. Maybe you are struggling with your Christian faith — with doubts, questions, “sin.” Maybe you’re worried that my departure from religion is contagious. Maybe you have a lot of anger about something else, and it’s just directed at me. Maybe you’re waiting for me to get back on the right path (whatever that is, in your opinion).

Psychology and self-improvement articles that I’ve read recently suggest that this is not about me and my supposed problems, but about you and whatever’s going on in your world. They suggest I focus on other things and quit wasting my time and energy on something that isn’t about me in the first place. My psycho-therapist friend reminds me that, despite what Christianity might have taught me, I’m not always to blame; she reminds me that I don’t always have to “go the extra mile” and that relationships are two-way streets. The Handy-Man pats my arm and says, “Put it on the shelf and leave it alone for a while.”

So, I guess that’s what I do now — I put this on the shelf, or at least into the “delete” folder in my email account. With my attempts to be loving and gracious and merciful, and also with my thrist for knowledge and my fascination with how this big ol’ world works, I try to brush aside your words. I back away for a while, instead of trying yet again to explain myself. I wait for time to heal, and I wait for people (myself, included) and circumstances to change. Maybe in a few months, I send you a joke or a “Happy 2018!” card. Maybe if I rent a car someday, I’ll call to let you know I’ll be driving through your town. Maybe we’ll meet for a quick lunch and see where the conversation goes.

For now, I must run. I’ve got books that need to be read and a cup of coffee with a shot of Bailey’s just waiting to be consumed.

Take good care,

Tania K

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Are You an Atheist Success Story?

By Avangelism Project ~ F acts don’t spread. Stories do. It’s how (good) marketing works, it’s how elections (unfortunately) are won and lost, and it’s how (all) religion spreads. Proselytization isn’t accomplished with better arguments. It’s accomplished with better stories and it’s time we atheists catch up. It’s not like atheists don’t love a good story. Head over to the atheist reddit and take a look if you don’t believe me. We’re all over stories painting religion in a bad light. Nothing wrong with that, but we ignore the value of a story or a testimonial when we’re dealing with Christians. We can’t be so proud to argue the semantics of whether atheism is a belief or deconversion is actually proselytization. When we become more interested in defining our terms than in affecting people, we’ve relegated ourselves to irrelevance preferring to be smug in our minority, but semantically correct, nonbelief. Results Determine Reality The thing is when we opt to bury our

Christian TV presenter reads out Star Wars plot as story of salvation

An email prankster tricked the host of a Christian TV show into reading out the plots of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and Star Wars in the belief they were stories of personal salvation. The unsuspecting host read out most of the opening rap to The Fresh Prince, a 1990s US sitcom starring Will Smith , apparently unaware that it was not a genuine testimony of faith. The prankster had slightly adapted the lyrics but the references to a misspent youth playing basketball in West Philadelphia would have been instantly familiar to most viewers. The lines read out by the DJ included: "One day a couple of guys who were up to no good starting making trouble in my living area. I ended up getting into a fight, which terrified my mother." The presenter on Genesis TV , a British Christian channel, eventually realised that he was being pranked and cut the story short – only to move on to another spoof email based on the plot of the Star Wars films. It began: &quo

So Just How Dumb Were Jesus’ Disciples? The Resurrection, Part VII.

By Robert Conner ~ T he first mention of Jesus’ resurrection comes from a letter written by Paul of Tarsus. Paul appears to have had no interest whatsoever in the “historical” Jesus: “even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, we know him so no longer.” ( 2 Corinthians 5:16 ) Paul’s surviving letters never once mention any of Jesus’ many exorcisms and healings, the raising of Lazarus, or Jesus’ virgin birth, and barely allude to Jesus’ teaching. For Paul, Jesus only gets interesting after he’s dead, but even here Paul’s attention to detail is sketchy at best. For instance, Paul says Jesus “was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” ( 1 Corinthians 15:4 ), but there are no scriptures that foretell the Jewish Messiah would at long last appear only to die at the hands of Gentiles, much less that the Messiah would then be raised from the dead after three days. After his miraculous conversion on the road to Damascus—an event Paul never mentions in his lette

Morality is not a Good Argument for Christianity

By austinrohm ~ I wrote this article as I was deconverting in my own head: I never talked with anyone about it, but it was a letter I wrote as if I was writing to all the Christians in my life who constantly brought up how morality was the best argument for Christianity. No Christian has read this so far, but it is written from the point of view of a frustrated closeted atheist whose only outlet was organizing his thoughts on the keyboard. A common phrase used with non-Christians is: “Well without God, there isn’t a foundation of morality. If God is not real, then you could go around killing and raping.” There are a few things which must be addressed. 1. Show me objective morality. Define it and show me an example. Different Christians have different moral standards depending on how they interpret the Bible. Often times, they will just find what they believe, then go back into scripture and find a way to validate it. Conversely, many feel a particular action is not

ACTS OF GOD

By David Andrew Dugle ~   S ettle down now children, here's the story from the Book of David called The Parable of the Bent Cross. In the land Southeast of Eden –  Eden, Minnesota that is – between two rivers called the Big Miami and the Little Miami, in the name of Saint Gertrude there was once built a church. Here next to it was also built a fine parochial school. The congregation thrived and after a multitude of years, a new, bigger church was erected, well made with clean straight lines and a high steeple topped with a tall, thin cross of gold. The faithful felt proud, but now very low was their money. Their Sunday offerings and school fees did not suffice. Anon, they decided to raise money in an unclean way. One fine summer day the faithful erected tents in the chariot lot between the two buildings. In the tents they set up all manner of games – ring toss, bingo, little mechanical racing horses and roulette wheels – then all who lived in the land between the two rivers we

I can fix ignorance; I can't fix stupid!

By Bob O ~ I 'm an atheist and a 52-year veteran of public education. I need not tell anyone the problems associated with having to "duck" the "Which church do you belong to?" with my students and their parents. Once told by a parent that they would rather have a queer for their sons' teacher than an atheist! Spent HOURS going to the restroom right when prayers were performed: before assemblies, sports banquets, "Christmas Programs", awards assemblies, etc... Told everyone that I had a bladder problem. And "yes" it was a copout to many of you, but the old adage (yes, it's religious) accept what you can't change, change that which you can and accept the strength to know the difference! No need arguing that which you will never change. Enough of that. What I'd like to impart is my simple family chemistry. My wife is a Baptist - raised in a Baptist Orphanage (whole stories there) and is a believer. She did not know my religi