Growing Up With the Holy Ghost Part III: Questioning With Boldness

Welcome back readers! In Part II of this series, I dedicated it entirely to my bout with cancer and the role my faith played in it at the time. I want to pick up where I left off in this part of my life, after I was in remission and was getting back into the swing of a Christian life...


After everything was somewhat back to normal with my health, my life itself began to go back to normal as well. As I mentioned in the last blog, we had just switched from the Baptist church I had grown up in to a small Pentecostal church in the new town we were now living. The changes were very noticeable in some areas and not-so-much in others. For starters, the Pentecostal church was a bit smaller. Not as much the structure, but attendance was less than half of that at the Baptist church: about 20-25 souls on a good Sunday, compared to about 50-60 at our Baptist church. My mother and I usually attended the mid-week meetings, as she worked on weekends. The attendance at these services were even lower.

The dress of the attendees was a bit different too. At the Baptist church you were always in your Sunday best and I  remember a lot of the older men wearing suits. At our new Pentecostal place of worship, everyone dressed up, but it was a lot more causal - a good pair of jeans and a nice button-up shirt was commonplace. I liked that. My fellow churchgoers weren't much different either. Being a small, rural area it's expected. Everyone was extremely nice, friendly and caring. They carried their worn KJV Bible and had bright smiles wherever they went. I still admire the kindness I encountered during this time and still consider some of these folks as some of the most caring and compassionate people I have ever met. We disagree on a lot now, but that doesn't change that.

The regular agenda for a service was slightly different than the Baptist services...

Baptist:
- Welcome by the pastor
- Church choir would sing some hymns (I would sometimes join in on stage)
- Sermon began with topic/verse(s)  - kids would go into another room for Sunday school.
- Usually a collection plate was passed around at this time, but sometimes it happened at the end. I was            usually given a dollar to place in the plate.
- Pastor wraps up with prayer requests, and occasionally a soul would be saved
- Music would play as everyone meandered through the crowd shaking hands/hugging, fishing trips and            recipes were spoken of and then goodbyes until next time.

Pentecostal:
-Welcome by the preacher
- Get right into the sermon/verse
-Prayer requests, testimonies
-"Prayer circle" formed, where a specific person needing/wanting prayer would have hands laid on them and the church join in.
-Preacher's wife would start on the piano and our preacher would wind down with a meaningful sendoff.


Not too different in comparison, but the content is really where things were different...


The biggest difference between the two places of worship was the atmosphere. Our Baptist church stuck to the basic structure, which was quiet and a lot of times just boring. On the other hand, our Pentecostal church wasn't boring at all. If you don't know anything about Pentecostalism, you may have heard of some of the things that sound a bit...odd, if you're not familiar with it. For example, it's completely normal for one or several in attendance to break out in loud prayer, many times "speaking in tongues" - which I can best describe as a flowing of broken words(English), mainly syllables, with pauses and increased/decreased pitch. I always thought it was nothing but gibberish, but it was explained to be as a special language one speaks when the Holy Ghost has entered the body and only God is able to understand it. I never questioned it. I never spoke in tongues and not everyone in the church did or as I was told, "could". I thought I'd try one time when I felt this urge during a service to just spout words coming to my head, but I was afraid God wouldn't see it as sincere. I feel that most who did it felt the same way I did, but just acted on it. Accompanying the tongue-speaking would sometimes be loud shouts, jumping up and down, stomping, running through the church etc. - most of the church was older and most of those that participated were older, but a few younger attendees(30-40's) sometimes joined in as well. I noticed that it was usually women that partook in the antics, but some men(including the preacher) did some jumping, running and speaking in tongues. I, nor my mother, were never ones that did this - though my aunt(grandfathers sister) did quite a bit. You could find me frequently with my eyes closed and hands raised praising God. It was quite the experience and I felt really close to God at my new church.

I'm sure some of you read that and thought it sounded pretty strange and a lot of crazy. Looking at it now, it was. But at the time, it was completely natural to me. If any of those things happened, it was not the least bit strange in my eyes. It would actually be strange if we made it through a service and at least one person didn't run, jump, yell etc. That's just the way it was, but it didn't end there. Another portion of the service was the "laying of hands". It was typically towards the end of service and could last well over an hour itself. It's also where the antics I mentioned above kicked into a higher gear. After the sermon, which was usually not very long, our preacher would say that if anyone wanted to be anointed or prayed for to come on up to the front. At that time, the entire church would walk up to the front to participate - to take part in the prayer(lay hands), not all would request to be prayed for. Here's what would happen:

After the call was made by the preacher and everyone was at the front near the altar, the person who wanted to prayed for would step up to the preacher. Most of the time they would state what they wanted prayer for: whether it be an illness, a physical pain, anxiety/stress etc. Even if you wanted it for a family member, you could by prayer over and pass that on to the person(seems legit, huh?). You could also not have any particular reason, just that you wanted it or felt you needed it. Sometimes others would volunteer you: my mother and aunt frequently volunteered me, but with the recent bouts with cancer and secondary health issues from treatment, I felt I needed it as much as anyone. Once in front of the preacher, everyone would start to place hands either on you directly or on someone that had their hand on you. The preacher would then pull out a vial of oil for anointing (olive oil that was prayed over), place some on his thumb and rub, sometimes making a cross, the oil on your forehead. Still with me? He would then place his hand on your head, or sometimes a particular place that needed healing if it was a particular part of your body - mine was my neck and chest to ward off any future relapses of caner - and start to pray out-loud along with all of those to your side and behind you with their hands placed on you as well. The prayers would usually start in a low-pitch manner, then rise higher as it progressed. Those who spoke in tongues would often break out in tongue during this time while others might jump and make convulsing motions while they had their hand on you. It was not uncommon at all for people to "pass out" or as I was told, drunk with the spirit of the lord. Since there were so many around you, falling back would be met with hands to catch you and ease you down to the floor. Sometimes someone wouldn't be around to catch and they would just fall on their own. But I never noticed anyone's body go completely limp as they would fall lightly to the floor bracing themselves.

I want to add that this wasn't the ridiculous antics like you might have saw Benny Hinn do on TV where he looks like he smacking or casting holy lightening bolts at people as the freeze and fall over. These weren't plants in the crowd(there were only about 15-20 of us normally), this wasn't televised and it wasn't an act for new members since 1) there were hardly any new folks coming in and 2) it happened every service. I don't think people were being dishonest at all, they were doing what they felt. The church was a place to let loose and they did. I certainly don't think they were possessed by God. Why? Because you can find people in very similar trance-like states in numerous religions, under the influence of certain drugs or altered mental states. The brain is powerful thing and something like religion obviously has great effects on it. If this was the God you worship, how can you explain followers of other deities experiencing the same thing? - insert link

As you can see, there was quite a bit of difference. I enjoyed this kind of service and interaction. I felt I was closer to God doing it the Pentecostal way, it was much more lively. It wasn't boring at all, which I had felt guilty about growing up and going to church when I was younger with long, tedious sermons. I felt that wasn't for me, but I had found my place with this particular brand of Christianity. Everything good that happened to me during this time I attributed to God and the services I was attending. The anointing oil, the hands laid, the prayers shouted etc. were all responsible for me defeating cancer and more importantly not relapsing again. I felt good after service, I felt I was protected by God's hand. Though you couldn't see Him, He was always there I thought.

*Nothing during this time ever shook my faith, though there really wasn't much that happened in the first place. With time passing and my cancer staying in remission, my faith only grew stronger and stronger.

 In 2006, my great-grandfather passed away at the age of 82. He had been very sick for months before, so it wasn't a shock to anyone. I actually felt some solace when he passed away because of the faith in God I held so tightly to. My great-grandmother, his wife, passed away on New Years day 1997. She was a very devout Pentecostal Christian and kept my grandfather on a path away from alcoholism he struggled with throughout his live. She was the foundation of the family and even though I was only seven when she passed, I was completely heartbroken. I still tear up thinking about her to this day and my memories of her seem more abundant and clear than they should sixteen years later. My grandfather was never the same after she was gone. He always seemed empty and unhappy in the years after. He loved her with everything he had and he missed her as much as someone could ever miss anything. So when he passed, I found comfort in the thought that he had reunited with her in heaven and they were finally back together, forever. Even with this loss, I wasn't that upset because I was confident I would see my grandfather again.

This is a comfort religion offers and something I personally found comfort in during any loss I suffered during this time. It's something I wish I could believe in now. Who else wouldn't want to believe in a time of loss that you'll eventually get to see your loved ones again? Naturally many do and plug through life following a religion for the promise of paradise and to see the ones they lost along the way. As a former Christian, it's something I understand that's hard to let go. I realize now that while this belief dulls the sting of death, it can be one of the most destructive parts of religion. Why? I'll explain...

If you thought that you were going to have a never-ending life with your loved ones after you die, how important does that make your current life? To me, it degrades it and makes it less meaningful. The truth is that this is the only life we get, it's the only thing we know exists. The world is billions of years old and you're here and gone in a blink of an eye. A tiny sliver of time in the grand event we call life. You have this short time to spend with your loved ones, to love, to laugh, to help others...to live. This isn't a rehearsal for eternity, this is the entirety of your eternity. While religion may inspire some to be good and do great things, it often causes a lot of neglect of their one true life. I now realize that I won't be seeing my grandfather again. While that's a hard pill to swallow, it makes our time together that much more special. You also learn how precious your time is with your family and life overall is. Looking at life through atheist eyes is something more than profound. It an appreciation for the world and all that's in it that can only be found in the view of a godless prism. 


As I mentioned before, my faith only grew stronger with the death of my grandfather. It was almost was less than two weeks before Christmas in 2006 when he passed. Christmas was hard that year, but we pulled through. While this event wasn't the turning point in my journey towards atheism, another event would end up sparking it.

In 2007 there was an "riff" in our church. A friend of the family wanted to become a deacon in the church, which is one of the "leaders" and assists in the service - though this differs from denomination to denomination. She was a little more involved already and wanted to be a preacher herself. She would ask to speak on behalf of someone requesting prayers and it would usually turn into a short sermon in itself. I never thought anything about it and no one seemed to mind. I probably couldn't tell you who the other deacons were in the church, it wasn't as obvious as it was in the baptist church we attended before. What I do know is that the few who were deacons/leaders, they were all male. When she made her request, she was turned down. I wasn't there of course, but she said that it was made clear that it was because she was a woman. This is something very common in a lot of denominations, something I didn't really know but would find out why it was.

When I heard the reason was because she was a woman, I couldn't understand it at all. I was confused and upset as to why that would be the case. I was raised by a single mother and around strong women all my life, so I never understood the male-dominated gender roles pushed by Christianity. I also never saw any of the women being treated differently in service, so why would this be an issue? It turned into such a big issue with my mother and aunt that they stopped attending the church regularly, though they did still attended. Within a few months, the woman decided to start her own church and she would be the preacher. In such a church the gossip spread quickly. This led to members "taking sides" with some joining the new church, some staying and some attending both. Though I completely supported her becoming a deacon, I didn't like the fact that the issue essentially divided the congregation. To me Christianity was all about union, community and joining together to worship God. I saw no reason people should feel like they should pick sides. We were all Christians, why couldn't we get along? My mother attended her church and of course I joined. I still didn't feel right about leaving the other church, though I wasn't forbidden to go myself and never felt unwelcome by the preacher at the old one.

 This incident, however, changed the way I looked at organized religion. I was never a fan of the mega-churches at all. A massive building with tens of thousands of members didn't appeal to me. The community was diminished and the relationship with the pastor was as well. The pay they received and the ungodly amount of money spent on those churches were ridiculous and off-putting to me. Growing up in poverty and attending hole-in-the-wall churches surrounded by folks that struggle with so many issues and I felt needed prayers and God that would bless them with what they needed(of course that never happened, but still). With this new incident in a tiny Pentecostal church, I learned that the hypocrisy existed no matter how large your Sunday gatherings were. That even when we were so close, we could divide ourselves and push God aside. Not long after the switch to the female pastors church, I didn't feel like attending very often. I felt some resentment at her for what ended up dividing the church, anger at the old pastor for rejecting her request at the same time and guilt for leaving folks I had grown to love at my old church. I decided to sit home and keep my relationship with God intact. I convinced myself that by cutting out the middleman/woman, I could have the best connection with Jesus/God. I turned into one of those "it's not about the religion, it's about the relationship" people. I didn't think I needed a church to worship God and with all that happened, I was sure God would understand.

When I removed myself from church, I did a lot more reading and studying of the bible on my own. There was no service to attend, which meant there was no select lesson/verses given to study or reflect on. What I didn't know was that the bible itself would end up making the strongest case against religion and God I have ever found. Usually, in my church anyway, the pastor would read a few verses and deliver the message he has interpreted from it. Of course the verses are usually uplifting ones about Gods love, a "teaching" moment, and sometimes what will happen if you don't "get right" with the Lord. Even the harsher messages of fire and brimstone never really touch the juiciest parts of bible. Naturally, I had only gotten the censored version of the good book like most do.

The first thing I wanted to do when I began my scripture searching was to find a solution to the issue that divided my church. I hadn't given up on it completely and I thought I could make a pretty good argument that might bring everyone back together. Yes, I was that naive. My plan was to find verses in support of women and their role in church. Verses that would show women were equal to men and had every right to serve the church and God. Adam and Eve were made from each other, after all. So this is what I did and it didn't turn out how I planned. With the help of the internet and my cherished Youth Bible, I found the verses about women and their place in church...


1 Corinthians 14:34-36
Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience as also saith the law. And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home: for it is a shame for women to speak in the church.

Ephesians 5:22-24
Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands , as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing.

1 Timothy 2:11-15
Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. For Adam was first formed, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression. Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing.

Titus 2:4-5
Teach the young women to be ... obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.

Not only did I not find anything to support the female preacher, I found everything that speaks against her being a deacon in the church. The Bible is very clear in that not only they can't serve in that role, they're not even allowed to speak in a church. When it comes to misogyny, a lot of the sexism we see in today's age has quite a bit to do with the biblical gender-roles. If it weren't for these misogynist ideas espoused in the Bible, the world might be a much different place. It wasn't until the late 19th century to present day that we see women shedding these dated and ridiculous biblical bondage's.

"Religion, especially the Christian religion, has condemned woman to the life of an inferior, a slave. it has thwarted her nature and fettered her soul, yet the Christian religion has no greater supporter. none more devout, than woman. Indeed, it is safe to say that religion would have long ceased to be a factor in the lives of the people, if it were not for the support it receives from women. The most ardent churchworkers, the most tireless missionaries the world over, are women, always sacrificing on the altar of the gods that have chained her spirit and enslaved her body." ---- Emma Goldman

This didn't sit well with me, naturally. I was raised and surrounded by strong women all of my life. They were all religious to boot. How could something like this be in the Bible? The Holy Book? The Word of the Almighty? I was surprised to say the least. I hadn't been exposed to any of this. I hadn't heard any verse like this from the pastor, at youth meetings or reading it on my own(assigned/suggested sections). I began to look further. This had to be some mistake, something taken out of context. There's no way God wanted women to be treated like that, to be completely silent and submissive. The women in my family certainly never followed that. I had to look further, maybe there was more that could find. So, I tried and found verses that made things worse...

1 Corinthians 11:5-9

And every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head--it is just as though her head were shaved. For if a woman is not veiled, let her also be shorn: but if it is a shame to a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be veiled. For a man indeed ought not to have his head veiled, forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God: but the woman is the glory of the man. For the man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man. And the man was not made for the woman, but the woman for the man.

Deuteronomy 22:28-29

If a man happens to meet a virgin who is not pledged to be married and rapes her and they are discovered, he shall pay her father fifty shekels of silver. He must marry the young woman, for he has violated her. He can never divorce her as long as he lives.

Deuteronomy 22:13-21

 If a man takes a wife and, after sleeping with her, dislikes her and slanders her and gives her a bad name, saying, “I married this woman, but when I approached her, I did not find proof of her virginity,” then the young woman’s father and mother shall bring to the town elders at the gateproof that she was a virgin. Her father will say to the elders, “I gave my daughter in marriage to this man, but he dislikes her. Now he has slandered her and said, ‘I did not find your daughter to be a virgin.’ But here is the proof of my daughter’s virginity.” Then her parents shall display the cloth before the elders of the town, and the elders shall take the man and punish him.They shall fine him a hundred shekels of silver and give them to the young woman’s father, because this man has given an Israelite virgin a bad name. She shall continue to be his wife; he must not divorce her as long as he lives. If, however, the charge is true and no proof of the young woman’s virginity can be found, she shall be brought to the door of her father’s house and there the men of her town shall stone her to death. She has done an outrageous thing in Israel by being promiscuous while still in her father’s house. You must purge the evil from among you.

In looking for more supportive verses to help the church situation and forgetting the horrible ones I had first found, it just got a lot worse. I found verses that forbid a woman for not keeping her head covered, making a rapist marry his victim as punishment and a verse that allows a man to claim his wife is not a virgin, make the parents prove it(impossible) and if they can't(they can't), she gets stoned to death. I was shocked. It went from strong misogyny to plain evil. What was going on? How could this be in my scared scripture, God's own words to us? None of this was making sense. I can already feel that some reading this said to themselves that I have it all wrong, that I am cherry picking, am unable to understand those verses and the context around them. I thought of all of those things and more myself. It was an internal struggle to not make excuses and talk myself out of questioning. I'll be talking about more about that in the next blog and why verses like the ones quoted are so important.

At this time I had quickly forgotten about the ordeal going on in church, I had to straighten some things out immediately. If this was in the Bible, what else was? I kept hoping and praying that maybe this was it. I could probably write it off as mostly Old Testament stuff that's outdated. In that time, this was the norm and maybe I just didn't understand it. Regardless, I wasn't going back to church anytime soon. I needed to actually read and research my own religion I clinged so tightly to. I had taken it in at an early age, never questioning: it was forbidden anyway. I had gotten the PG version of the Bible, now after digging further I found that the "bad things" were so much worse than I could have imagined. I read my bible and read it some more. My world as I knew it, simply the prism I looked through, changed my entire life in such a short amount of time. My foundation was shook like it had never been before. My path toward atheism and a godless, yet so fulfilling, had begun. For the first time in my life I was growing, but as I'll explain, it was a slow, confusing and painful process to get here now...

Growing Up With the Holy Ghost Part II: Cancer with Christ

In part one of the this blog, I talked a lot about my first experiences with religion. The Baptist church of my stepfathers was really the first church and experiences with Christianity I can remember a lot about and was very involved in. However, this wasn't the last church I called home before I ended up here. After falling on some very hard times, my family and I moved to a neighboring town. While the Baptist church wasn't very far away, we decided to start going to a church that my aunt had been attending and recommended to my mother. This one was a Pentecostal church and it was quite a bit different. During this time, a major event happened in my life I'd like to tell you about...

In March of 2003, at the age of twelve, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I had come home one evening and noticed a large lump around my collar bone. My mother took me to the ER that night. At first we thought it might have been an issue with my collarbone considering how large and visible the lump was, but I was in no pain at all. From the start, I was worried about the possibility of, well, cancer. My mother had mentioned it briefly going over possible causes and I was old enough to know that lumps = cancer a lot of times. After some tests, we were told by the ER doctor that I had several enlarged lymph nodes from some type of virus or infection. I was told to take the antibiotics he prescribed and the nodes would go down in about four weeks. I remember getting home later that night feeling incredibly relieved. I had no idea about lymphoma's and my worries about cancer were put to rest for the time being. I also remember doing something else that night. I had this special nightly routine of my own, personal bedtime prayer. I always thanked God for another day, asked for more of them if He was willing, sent out a broad, generic prayer for all of those suffering around the world, and would usually finish with "I rebuke the Devil in your name. I love and believe in you with all of my heart." I would also fill in specific prayer requests for others and myself if I needed it - it usually followed my request to end world hunger. I will always remember my prayer that night. I remember thanking God for letting the lumps only be swollen lymph nodes and not something more serious. My mother, a nurse, didn't feel quite right about my ER diagnosis. The next day she set up an appointment with my pediatrician to see me as soon as possible. After that visit I was immediately sent to a surgeon for a biopsy on the lymph nodes on my neck. It was then that the cancer was found and I was flown to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital a few days later.

I'm sure some of my Christian readers read that and thought "Oh, this explains it. He's mad at God for letting him get cancer!". I can assure you, that isn't the case at all. After I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's a week later, I felt no anger at all. I didn't even question it that I remember. The only questions I had were "What did I do?". No anger, I just thought it may have been a punishment for something I had done - in all of my twelve years to raise hell. I didn't dwell on that, however. I, like I had been taught, simply assumed this was in God's plan and I couldn't understand it. In my world anger towards God or questioning his motives was never an option. With this approach, my faith strengthened as I felt I needed God to make it through treatment. I leaned heavily on it throughout the entire ordeal. Never once did I feel any sort of anger about my situation. Even when I was faced with bad news from this test of that scan, I still held on as tight as ever.

 In late summer of 2003 I had just finished up my chemotherapy treatments, which were the bulk of all my initial treatment protocol. After a routine scan I was found to be cancer-free. I was absolutely ecstatic! I had just beaten cancer in a few months and before I had finished treatment! That night I had a lot of praise for God/Jesus for taking the cancer away. The prayers had worked and my God had come through again like he always had: we won't talk about the times He didn't, it's His will, don't worry about it. He had worked another miracle and I owed him even more now. Even though I had went into remission quicker than expected, the doctors wanted to follow through with protocol and go on with radiation. It was my choice and I opted for it. A  few weeks later I was in Memphis to begin some low-dose radiation. After a week of routine appointments and prepping for radiation, I took another scan. This one, however, showed the cancer was back. I had relapsed and it had actually come back more aggressive than previously. Just like the first diagnosis, I was not mad at God in the least bit. Once again, I accepted this as God's will and knew he would get me through it once more. I never even regretted the praise I had given him for ridding me of cancer the first time, either. I just happened to be unlucky, but as I heard and still hear so many times, "If God brought you to it, he'll bring you through it." My faith in God was kicked up a few notches still and I felt I was leaning on him even more now. After nine months of twenty rounds of high-dose chemo, twenty-two radiation treatments, a handful of surgeries and a stem-cell transplant, I went into remission again...and where do you think the majority of my gratitude went? None other than the non-existent invisible man in the sky and talking to myself prayer. After my transplant the cancer was still there, but shrinking. The protocol called for two more rounds of high-dose chemo post-transplant. I went in for the first treatment and was feeling absolutely horrible from what I do remember of that day before waking up in ICU. I had fluid building around my heart and lungs, on top of that pesky cancer in my neck and chest. My mother called our preacher, our new Pentecostal one, and he and his wife came out to the hospital and a prayer meeting was held bedside by them, my parents and my aunt. All in attendance "laid  hands" and the pastor and my aunt spoke in tongues. About a week later the doctors managed to keep the fluid off of my heart and lungs. I was finally released to go back home, not knowing at all about how close I had come to dying. A week or so after my trip to the ICU, I had the first of the two rounds of chemo originally planned. A scan soon after showed the cancer had shrunk more than what it was visible immediately after my transplant. Though we were told that the effects of the transplant were likely to be delayed, this "miracle" was of course attributed to the perceived power of prayer. I finished the last two rounds of chemo and the scan after that round revealed the cancer was essentially gone. After another biopsy it was official: I was cancer-free. I never lost faith during this time, not even a question as to why this was happening to me and the thousands of children I saw going through much worse at St. Jude's. My faith soared to where it never was before I got sick.

As I mentioned several times before, I can never remember being angry at all towards God, only thankful that I was pulling through and also that my situation wasn't more serious. I emphasize that for two reasons: 1) for those that believe this was when I lost my faith or I am mad at God for my illness and 2) to show how much of a hold Christianity had on me at the time. This was a life-changing event and my outlook on life, now at the age of fourteen, changed dramatically. I frequently saw children much younger than me with much more life-threatening diagnoses, and some of these little ones didn't make it. Some of my friends I made didn't either. Death is a lot to take in as a thirteen year old; it's a lot to live with now at twenty-three. Coming in for a treatment, asking about a friend, only to find out she passed away the week before (I just had seen her smiling face a few weeks prior) was a very hard thing to go through. My algebra teacher's daughter had visited me during my treatment, having just beat Leukemia herself. Not much later after that, she was diagnosed with a extremely serious brain tumor. The next time I got to visit her was at her wake, she passed at the age of sixteen. Both families of these heroes of mine were very religious like mine. There's an extreme amount of guilt some people in that situation carry afterwards and I still feel it to this day. At the time, I tried to turn it into something more positive. I told myself that my friends death, the death of other children I met, and the plight of countless little ones suffering these horrible diseases were all a part of God's plan. I was told that God had something in store for me, that I lived for a reason and that reason was to serve him and fulfill his almighty will: whatever that may be. That's a lot to take on for anyone, especially at that age. I was burdened not only with doing what God needed me to do, I also had to live in honor of those who didn't survive. The latter is something that still sticks with me today. While I don't believe in any ridiculous plan of a non-existent deity, those that passed away were real and had their own plans, hopes and dreams.

Today, when I tell someone I'm an atheist and that I'm a cancer-survivor, a lot of them can't understand how that could be. God, they say, brought me through it and saved my life. I only managed this because I had strong faith, that I survived only because I was a believer. My answer is that while, yes, I did believe in God when I beat cancer, I was also was just as strong a believer when I got cancer. The Lord giveth before he taketh away. I also have heard that I'm only an atheist because I'm mad at God because I got cancer. This, as I've shown, is just completely false. As I mentioned several times above, while going through my illness I only became more passionate about my beliefs. It was years before I lost my belief in God and cancer had absolutely nothing to do with it. The only thing I'm upset with today is the fact I was so naive and foolish to believe there was some being meddling and saving my life. I'm also ashamed of the fact that I didn't appreciate the true reasons I pulled through: my family, my nurses/doctors, and advanced medicine. Science was my savior, medicine my messiah. The notion that I'm angry at God also doesn't make sense for one very big reason: I don't believe in the existence of a God. I'm an atheist because I have come to the sound conclusion that there is no God and never was. For me to be angry at something, I'd have to acknowledge its existence. This is impossible with atheism. Some need to understand that us atheists aren't pissed at some imaginary being, we can't have emotions towards something that isn't there. It would be like being depressed that my imaginary friend died or when I don't get something I wanted at Christmas time, I get pissed at Santa. 

This event that occurred my life has affected my current beliefs and shaped my overall approach to life. As I said before, it gave me a purpose in life. At the time, I thought that purpose was to devote my life to a religion and its God because I had been mercifully spared to carry on the torch of the trinity. I realize now that I had it all wrong. The purpose I now hold is of the secular kind,. It's one of humanism that envelopes kindness, compassion, charity, and goodness without a god. I hear too often that a life without God is meaningless and not worth living. This arrogant, offensive and ignorant claim doesn't hold a drop of holy water. I have found my godless life much more meaningful than it ever was while I was a believer. Why? Because it undeniably is in every single way. Everything around you becomes so much more meaningful when viewed through a pious-less prism. Nature, for example,  becomes more amazing than it was before. The fact that our world has created and sustained everything around us is nothing short of incredible. When the truth reaches you that there was no creator planting this tree or flipping on that light-switch, that everything happened after billions of years of torrent changes and chance, it leaves you in complete awe. And us folks that inhabit it? I think Lawrence Krauss said it best...

"Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics. You are all stardust. You couldn't be here if stars hadn't exploded. Because the elements, the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution weren't created at the beginning of time. They were created in nuclear furnaces of stars. And the only way they could get into your body is if the stars were king enough to explode. So, forget Jesus, the stars died so you could be here today."

To me, that's so much more beautiful than any fictional story we may be told when we're growing up. The fact that makes it even more incredible is knowing that that is based on a true story, our story. As a kid, it may have been neat to think we were dropped in by a stork. But when we're older we see how amazing the process of life is. The reality is much more impressive than the children's story. It's the same feeling you get when the neat stories you're told in Sunday school about coming from dirt and a rib are replaced by the story of reality and fact that we're a product of stars, time and chance all coming together in an indescribably beautiful way. How could anyone call that a meaningless life? Because we know there was no God in the ingredient of life doesn't downgrade our existence and we should never let that notion go unchallenged. Contrary to what some may believe, a subscription to the absurd ideas that religion proposes does not give life weight. A manufactured messiah does not assign meaningfulness to what's already undeniably full of it. 

When examined, that life becomes that much more precious. It's meaningfulness is real, but the meaning is much different than what a religious person sees. I know it changed for me. You realize that this isn't a dress-rehearsal for some happy-ever-after (or not-so-happy-ever-after) outside of this life. There's no proof whatsoever for a heaven, hell or afterlife of any kind. I'll admit it, that's scary as shit. This is it. You're in it right now kindly reading my words(sorry). It's the purest form of truth and everything that is real exists here and now. It's palpable and short, not promised and forever-after. It is heaven and it's hell. It's a tiny blip in time to do whatever it is you want to do, then poof, it's gone. It's everything now that a religion promises will happen later on -  after you've given the one true life you have to it. It's the only thing an atheist worships. There's nothing more jaw-dropping than realizing the atheistic odyssey you' and everyone around you is on, whether or not they know it - because we're all without a God whether we accept that or not. While that's an uneasy truth to swallow, looking at what we have done on our own offers a lot of solace. When you realize that we've been doing it all on our own the entire time without help from some supernatural being, you see how truly special we all are. You had the strength the entire time to overcome any of those obstacles in your life. You had the kindness inside to help others all along, it didn't need to be activated by an alleged almighty. You may have passed a test, you may have created a life, you may have beat cancer...but whatever it was, big or small, you did it. You did all of those things you thought you couldn't do without help from the empty above. You. So how dare anyone say that your life becomes meaningless simply because you reject the non-existent omnipotent and accept the godless obvious.

When I was going through my bouts with cancer, I didn't see any of this. That, to me, was the worst ailment I experienced when I reflect on that time in my life. I was too busy sending up countless praises and prayers that dissolved after leaving my lips, never reaching what was never there. That was the most unfortunate part of my life that I look back on. I sometimes have to pause to think about what a tragedy it would have been if I had succumbed to my illness in that ICU room nearly ten years ago. If I had, Matthew Skeens's obituary would have likely mentioned God, angels and heaven; and it no doubt would have began "he went to be with the Lord today...". Perishing in youth is an unspeakable tragedy on its own, but personally, dying before the age of reason would have been the biggest tragedy of all. Defeating cancer seems easier now compared to wiping out the pious virus that I suffered from since it was first introduced to me sitting in the church pews as a young boy. I had no chemo or radiation to aid me during the internal struggle I faced years later while recovering from the terrifying and oppressing myths that flowed through my veins. While my religiosity was inoperable, in different ways the ever-omnipresent thing called science still led the way in my remission.

I've been cancer-free for nine years and Christ-free for four of those. The former I can't guarantee forever, but the latter I can. I'm cured.

Growing up with the Holy Ghost Part I: Child of God

This is  part one of my religious up bringing. This focuses on my early childhood mostly as a Baptist. I will talk about some life events during this portion of my life from about the age of seven to twelve, that I remember, and my thoughts on them now. Part two will be about my early teen years and switching to the Pentecostal life from the ages of thirteen to about seventeen. It will be on some of personal life events, my views at the time and how that has affected me...and of course what I think of them now. I hope you enjoy! 

_________________________________________________________________________________Before I go into the negatives I experienced, I will say that my time as a Christian wasn't a horrible experience. I met some amazing people that I will always cherish. I had a great time growing up with my Christian friends and hanging out with some wonderful people every week. No matter how I feel about religion and some Christians I meet, that will not change. I also want to clear something else up. I may use language that seems that I acknowledge the existence of God, so I want to make clear that I use that language when it is needed in referring to my previous beliefs , what others believe and in other contexts. I just simply don't stick "allegedly", "supposedly" and other words in front of every mention of the word "God". It gets redundant, boring and is not needed when I am writing from certain viewpoints. So, please know that I do not believe in the existence of a God and I am not acknowledging one, just simply the beliefs and viewpoints I and others held and do hold. Another thing I want to clear up is when I use the word "God". I am mostly talking about the Christian version. I do mention other religions as well and sometimes I use the word broadly, but mostly it's the Christian God I am referring to because that's what I am most familiar with, that's mostly who my readers are affiliated with and it's the version that I am surrounded by and has the most effects on me personally and everything around me. It's also what religion I believed in and refer to during my personal story. But please know that I do not believe in any other version either and will likely cover other religions as well in future blogs.
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As I mentioned in my last blog, I grew up in a Baptist/Pentecostal family. I remember going to church when I was younger, mostly with my great-grandmother to her Pentecostal church. One that was frequented by snake-handlers many years before. At the age of seven my mom married my stepfather and we began to attend the Baptist church he had attended since he was young. This is where I was introduced to things like Sunday school and youth meetings. I always looked forward going to going to them. We would play games like who could look up a Bible verse the fastest and read it aloud, for example, along with a ton of different games that dealt with the message of that particular meeting. I could never wait for Wednesday nights and youth! We would have "lock-ins" where we would stay up all night, eat pizza and play games. It was my only socializing outside of school. I was saving my soul and having fun at the same time, what could have been better than that? I even played Joseph in the Christmas play a few times. The heretic today was nowhere to be found in the "good, Christian boy" then. I still have the bible that was given to me by the youth group, an earned treasure. I still have it today...

When summer came around, I would attend a Christian summer camp for a short time. It was mostly camp-like activities during the day with the exception of required attendance of morning and evening church services, with a midday service some days. Camp will always be something I will remember. Not because of the games and boating on the lake, but because at camp in 1999 I was "saved" for the first time. It was about a week into a normal camp stay, nothing too special had happened except for the typical saving of some of the very juvenile and slightly delinquent souls. During one evening service, the pastor was giving an unusually fiery sermon to the dozens of tweens in attendance. Temptation and hell was the topic, I remember. He told of what was coming and it didn't sound good, especially for a mature nine year old soul like myself. According to him, there were some crazy things about to happen with the world and a lot of it included it not being here anymore. Needless to say, it was important to get some insurance. Not that nine years old meant we were living on borrowed biological time, but biblically we should probably start working on our bucket-list with the impending apocalypse. We were pre-pubescent sinners, but heathens nonetheless, and we were only going to keep sinning as impure and sinful thoughts were carried on the back of puberty. The sins would be larger and to make matters worse, there might even be some homosexuals among us. The pastor had an answer, a solution to our young woes. All we had to do was accept Jesus and we'd be set. I already really loved Jesus like I was told to do, so this seemed easy enough. Those that wanted to accept Jesus Christ into their hearts could come up, go behind the stage and get to acceptin'. Several dozen of us were overwhelmed with our love for God scared shit-less enough to go back stage where we were broken down into a handful of groups as the energetic, spike-haired man of God made his way around to each one. He made his way through a couple of groups before he eventually came to us. There was a reminder of the consequences, the way to avoid it and the question..."Do you accept Jesus Christ into your heart as your personal Lord and Savior?". We all naturally accepted, and it was as easy as Christians say. Well, it certainly appeared easy when viewed by a nine year old or equally enamored, myopic eyes on the Lord. Regardless, all my pre-pubescent peccadilloes had been washed away. I was straight with the house and just plain straight. Heaven awaited me and things were all right. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I felt I had just made a life decision that set me apart from a good portion of the world. I had accepted Jesus into my heart at the age of nine and my future was set. If I kept on the path of the straight and narrow (no pun intended), I would have a successful future and God would take care of me. I also had heaven to look forward to and I would walk hand-in-hand with him down streets of gold. Not only that, I had all of the answers I ever needed through Christianity growing up.

Where did we come from? God.

What will happen to us when we die? Christians, like you, will be with the Father in Heaven.

Will I ever see my great-grandmother Mammaw Carrie, again? Yes, she was a strong Christian. She's in heaven, young and healthy again.

How did my grandfather survive his heart-attacks? God was watching over him, he is responsible for all medical successes. He invented it, we're just using his tools. 

Why did 9/11 happen? The devil did that, the terrorists weren't Christians and Satan got a hold of them through their false religion. All other religions are really the work of the devil and he uses those to attack Christians. 

Why doesn't God stop him or the suffering all over the world? It's just his will, don't question it.

That was pretty much the answer to every single question I ever had. God was responsible for every positive thing that ever happened or will happen, regardless of how negligently intermittent his actions were. If any bad thing happened, the devil and his demons were responsible, even though God controlled everything. It happened because of God's enigmatic will, us children could never understand. If there was something that you just couldn't quite get your head around, you just didn't have enough faith and the devil was likely interfering. After a prayer meeting, you'd be fine and understand that God was always the answer. Sticking your fingers in your ears and repeating "God did it." is required at that age and essentially your entire life.

After the big event, there was a little confusion. First of all, I didn't know what really happened. The word "saved" wasn't mentioned that I could recall. I had always thought it was a much deeper and longer process that consisted of you and the preacher in private. I didn't find out that I was "saved" until I was talking to my friends and the camp leaders later on that night. I was a bit surprised and a bit more confused. I didn't feel much different, at least compared to what I was expecting. There were no signs of any cardiac-penetration by a Father, Son, or Holy ghost. Even so, I accepted the fact that I was now saved and still accepted Christ with my nine year old credulity. I did feel somewhat different, an uneasy feeling. I remember it hitting me that I was very young and that meant I had a long time on my hands to screw it all up. I also wondered how serious anyone took me when I told them I had been saved at the age of nine. I had just got my time-tables down not long before, so how could I have made such a huge life decision? Puberty still awaited me, but if I didn't get myself saved, hell awaited me? I was indeed saved, but it still didn't make much sense. This makes me wonder now, why isn't there an age of consent for the teaching of religion? You aren't really consenting to anything, you're being forced to do what someone else wants without the ability to determine what's right and wrong for you, and what's fiction from reality.

Fortunately, I can say that I was never mistreated during this time of my life. While religious, my parents are also pretty liberal on social issues that many others around me were not. There are far more worse things that others have been subjected to in the same situation. As I mentioned before, I enjoyed this time of my life for the most part. But as a kid, I didn't fully realize the effects of growing up in a culture like this. That is why religion is particularly harmful when you get your divine doses so early in life. If you start to question and step out of the God-glazed bubble, you see things differently. I wouldn't begin to really question anything until years later. I realized how much religion had affected me even though I didn't even know it. When I was taught that the earth was 6,000 years old, that was harmful to me. When I was taught that the world started from two fully developed human beings created from dirt, that was harmful to me. When I was taught that evolution never happened and was just a tool of the devil, that was harmful to me. When I was taught that the earth was flooded and every creature was rounded up two-by-two, that people lived to be 800-900 years old in biblical times, that a man was born by a virgin, walked on water and rose from the dead...that was harmful to me. It was harmful to me mentally and intellectually. When I was taught that all of that was the absolute truth, that any claim to the contrary is a lie, that questioning any of it can send me hell, that was extremely harmful to me. You're not just told these things are true, you are forbidden to question them. That is perhaps the biggest tragedy of all. You're forced to believe such, with no proof, to be accepted by your creator, to avoid eternal damnation and see your loved ones again. Your freewill is robbed by a religion that espouses the very concept. Your imagination seeking individuality is crucified by Christ himself. To cause a child to become circumspect toward what is real and true is a blinding affliction. A revocable devotion to a dilapidated deity masquerading as anything resembling the truth is the real sin.

Another thing Christianity did was allow me to experience real fear. The fear I felt was more real than anything else. It was stronger than the love and connection I had for God. It wasn't that my faith was weak, I believed in it as much as anyone, anywhere. The fear was terrifying, but now I realize that's just how it's supposed to be. Without the fear of something like hell and a loving God's vengeance, it doesn't stick. While "no questioning" is the edict, the fear of hell and punishment is the enforcer. I don't know how many times I heard how doubting/questioning was a tool of the devil and result of his meddling, but it seemed to accompany every lecture. If you doubted the dubious, Satan was in possession of you and he would lead you away from God and into Hell. That was enough to push a lot of legitimate, yet Satan-inspired questions out of my mind. The amount of hindering of thought and individual growth caused by religion is immeasurable. Along with this internal fight with the devil over my mind, I was still a flawed human being in perpetual sin according to the God that created me in his own image. Emotionally speaking, there are only a few things that can damage you more than religion. Some don't even realize it. Have you ever had a relationship in which you feel that whatever you do, you're not good enough and never will be? It has a large, negative effect most of the time. Some realize this and end it, others stay because they feel they love that person and may eventually be good enough. This is essentially an average relationship between Christians and their God. Unlike a relationship with a significant other you might have experienced, it's much harder to break it off with someone you're told created you, loves you unconditionally but will send you to hell if you leave. According to the Bible, we screwed up from day one and have been doing it ever since. While Jesus did die for us, we are still condemned unless we accept Him into our life, worship him, and constantly repent for the sins we commit everyday. If we don't, Almighty God will send us to hell. There's no free-will in that, the worst kind of relationship.

We're told we owe everything to God. We're alive because of him, our loved ones too, and every single good thing that has ever happened to us, He's the cause of that. We have an obligation to love and obey him unconditionally based on that alone Another important reason is that we will die someday and our afterlife will depend on our devotion to God. We can be ungrateful for all God has done and commit sins without repentance, the end result being eternal pain and agony in hell; or we can dedicate our entire lives to God, always praising what he has done no matter what and constantly asking forgiveness for being a terrible human-being. It doesn't even sound that bad when you look at it from that perspective, especially when you have been convinced since you were a child that you are forever in debt to God and he is even going to reward you if you just do what he says, ever how undeserving you are. I didn't think much of it; it sounded like a good deal. Today, however, I see how imperil and flawed that was.

My first issue is that I was told, as an innocent child, I was a flawed, unworthy person. I understand that we as human-beings have many imperfections, but our imperfections have nothing to do with manufactured faults from a two-thousand year old book. We're made to feel ashamed of our bodies and sexuality. We're told that if we're attracted to someone of the same-sex, we're abominations to the Lord. We're made to feel inferior in every way for just being ourselves, the way God supposedly made us. We're told to reject complete strangers because of their sins or their opposing beliefs. We're told we're forever-flawed because, again, what men deemed right/wrong 2,000 years ago in a horrendous society. Keep in mind that this same book tells you how to treat your slaves (Leviticus 25:44 -45 -46, Exodus 21:2 -3 -4 -5 -6) and not to not have fucking slaves! It doesn't condemn rape, only that the rapist must pay her father and marry her, never allowed to be divorced from her (Deuteronomy 22:28 -29), that the rape victim may be put to death (Deuteronomy 22:23 -24) and apparently God lets men who attack the cities he wants, to rape the women and children (Deuteronomy 20:10 -11 -12 -13 -14) - the last one being one of several supposedly historical accounts of Gods gift to those that kill in his name. But nothing about not fucking raping someone! As you can see, the book is clearly written by men. Women are treated like chattel. They are forbidden to speak in church or ask questions (1 Corinthians 14:34 -35), daughters can be sold into slavery by their fathers and can't be set free (Exodus 21:7), women must keep their head covered and must always obey men (1 Corinthians 11:6) - I could go on and on about how women were to be treated according to the Bible. I know I rambled on a bit, but I wanted to make clear what kind of people we're talking about. The same people that wrote this, supposedly inspired by the perfect Father, are the same ones that have deemed you flawed in the eyes of God.They made the rules allowing this disgusting atrocity and that horrific act, yet you're the immoral one that's worthy of hell? Of course these things aren't told to you as a child, those particular verses are missing from most Sunday sermons even though the Bible is full of similar divinely-deplorable laws. We're told that we owe everything to an invisible being that is responsible for every positive thing. We're told to do this without a single bit of proof. We also must always beg forgiveness to Him because of our completely natural actions that have been deemed immoral by a book that any person with half a conscience would consider to be grossly immoral at best and when examined there's so little to base even the weakest belief on and so little morality to base even the most half-hearted attempt at a just and compassionate life. 

The biggest issue to me with this is the unwavering devotion to a God that has little to no evidence to his existence. There's no verifiable account that anyone has ever seen, touched or heard this deity (but I understand that many think they have). What's most damning to me is that there is no historical, natural or circumstantial evidence to support the notion of a God, especially the Christian one (or any major, modern religion of that matter). I know some believe there are mountains of evidence, but in reality that's not the case. Atheists are always told that we're angry at God, that we just refuse to acknowledge him. This couldn't be any further from the truth considering we can't be mad at or ignore something that we believe isn't there. Most people, like I did, accepted there was a God without any sort of examining. I assumed everything in the Bible was true and that evidence was more than enough to establish God's existence. However, when you do a little reading, you learn that the Bible isn't the solid foundation you once thought it was. Among the things I learned was that there was never an Adam and Eve, there was no Great Flood, there is no evidence of a city called Sodom and Gomorrah(no, it never existed before it was supposedly destroyed), there was no Tower of Babel and there's a long list of people and places that never existed. The fact that there is no evidence or even a mention of many biblical events, people and places outside of the Bible was a massive hit to my belief in Christianity years later. What were the pillars of my acquiescent ardor for the messiah, became the protagonist for the jilting of Jesus in my life. There was no enmity with the evidence-less entity I called Father, the pious preeminence of the Lord was gone. I didn't just find that the eternal emperor had no clothes. The emperor was never there to begin with. 


I now realize why religion is pushed on younger people as often as it is. At that time in your life, you're extremely impressionable. Your opinions are shaped largely by those around you, family usually being biggest influence. Everything from the food you eat to simple political views are chosen in youth. This is why you find such a minority of people who have split off from their parents political or religious views. A lot of things are simply picked up and carried on through life. Things like religion, however, are often pushed on children for a specific reason. Adolescence is an advantageous time for religion and your membership must come with birth whether you like it or not. While we can't blame parents for not wanting their children to miss out on something like religion with its perceived benefits and safeguard them from the harsh consequences it creates, it still doesn't make it right. A list of religions aren't laid out in front of the kid by the parents, it's just drilled into them that their beliefs are true and that's the end of that. How many kids would pick that religion, or a religion at all, if more choices were put forth? Or if only just the 41,000+ denominations of Christianity were laid out, how many would pick their parents' particular one? There simply is no such thing as "free-will" when it comes to religion. It's an illusion. If you're a Christian, you likely didn't choose to be a Christian no more than you chose where to be born or who your parents were. Your parents and location, location, location. How many Christians can really say that if they were born in an Islamic nation, that they would still be a Christian? While there are exceptions, you'd likely be Muslim because you were born in a predominately Muslim area to Muslim parents. That's a hard pill to swallow, but it's the reality of the situation. How true and special can your religion be when the factors that determine your most sacred beliefs aren't much different than the factors that decide which sports team you root for? Indoctrination isn't a good thing, yet whether people want to admit it or not, that's exactly what happens to children with religion. Richard Dawkins said in his book The God Delusion, "There is no such thing as a Christian child: only a child of Christian parents." There's no better way to put it. And since we're not born with any knowledge of religion and certainly not a belief in a God, we're all born atheists until someone tells us there's something there that really isn't.

I look back during this part of my life and have mixed feelings. As I said, I was never mistreated and never experienced anything horrific because of religion. Some young people are kicked out of their home for being homosexual. That's purely because of religion for it is the catalyst of the hostility and hatred towards gays and lesbians. Societal definitions of natural and unnatural is where the "it's unnatural" notion comes from, homosexuality is natural in the natural world. The hate and bigotry aimed at homosexuality is not: it's a choice, unnatural, and synthetic as the man-manufactured sin it derives from. This group of people are driven to depression and suicide, sometimes they are murdered and beaten, and are outcast by their own family into the streets with no one. All because of a handful of sentences condemning homosexuality that a man named Moses and Paul said to some others, who they told and passed on and on and on to someone who wrote it down, that God told them that's what he wanted. What little good that can come from a place where hatred is derived cannot overcome all of the ills of the world that is caused by religion. It still could have been worse. I wasn't one of the children who was let die because my parents rejected medical care and replaced it with prayer, like the parents of this sick girl. She died a horribly painful death because her parents refused to seek medical care, instead praying, something that consistently fails (it's true, but I'll go into that more with an upcoming blog). She wouldn't even give the poor thing Pedialyte for the severe dehydration she was suffering because "that would take the glory away from God", according to her mother. There was no glory or God to be found when the girl later died suffering, even then the parents thought God would raise her from the dead. This is just one of the modern cases out of hundreds of recorded ones since the 1970's. There's been countless many before. I could have been them and that still scares me to this day. These people worship the same absent and ambiguous Abrahamac version of God my family does and seek guidance from the same beacon-less book. As long as there are people that do as well, the inflictions will be inherent and infinite. 

I was one of the luckier ones because I have a good family who are good without a God, even if they don't know it. While I am happy because of that fact, I didn't escape growing up with the Holy Ghost unscathed. It wasn't life-threatening injuries, but there are scars. It was something that had a grip on my life, but not tight enough. The grip seemed strong, but I found that the hands of my religion are weak and fragile. The hold it may have on you is just no match for the natural and internal intellectual-hostility toward such scared suppositions. My savior's impact was surreptitious and only now have I started to see the negative baggage that came with my religious upbringing. Pious prejudices were created inside me. Curiosity and inquiry were pushed out to make room for divine absurdities that carried no more truth in tow than the bedtime stories I heard growing up. Even though our imagination as a child is supposed to be cultivated, inquisitiveness was not a prerequisite for my religion. Nor welcome, I later learned. Taking from the Tree of Knowledge was a sin for a reason and is still the greatest of all sins today because if you do, you might just end up like a godless heretic like me...

Allow Me To Introduce Myself

Hello fellow heathen, believer and those in between!

This is the very first post on this new blog and I'm excited to get back writing them. Recently, I've had the urge to get some thoughts down in an arena where everyone can read and I could get some feedback. Other than Facebook posts, that are limited to my Facebook friends who are probably annoyed many times, I've not done much writing on the subject of religion and politics. I've also noticed quite a few people around my age(many younger) that are probably going through, or beginning to go through, the wonderful trip of disbelieving in a higher-power and seeing religion in ways they have never seen it before. I know it always helped me, when I first began to question my beliefs until now, to learn about others going through the same thing. It is not an easy time. When you begin to question something in your life like religion, it can be very scary. It is absolutely life-changing. Your entire belief system, the prism in the way you look at countless things in life, changes. That's frightening. When you know someone is going through or has gone through what you have, such as letting go on a God you now know was never there, it provides peace and removes some of the coldest loneliness someone can experience.

I grew up in a fairly religious family. Everyone is, to some degree, a Christian. Some just carry the Christian-card, others devoutly tune into the Jesus Show every week at their steeple-shaped slice of heaven. What religion did to me more than anything was scare the hell out of me. I still have internal scares. My entire worldview was shaped by Christianity whether I knew it or not. Under the false belief that you have "freewill", you don't even realize how much of a hold a religion has on you. You cling to things that make no sense whatsoever. You hate people that you have never met. You refuse to listen to music, watch certain television programs, read certain books etc., all because it may move a rock you have been standing on your entire life. You've yet to realize the sturdiness of that holy rock, how fragile it really is. Once the jury is out on  freewill, you realize how little freedom accompanies religion and the questions start pouring out. How can religious person assert that they have the ability to choose the path they're on when the alternative is always eternal torture in a fiery hell? You don't, but it is a fallacy that many go through life believing.

When I was around sixteen I had began to reject the idea of organized religion itself. I began to fully question, rather cautiously, when I was around eighteen years old. I still ascribed to the Christian religion, but the blatant hypocrisy of some of the followers I encountered and the discovery of the religion being run like a business was too much. I have found that this happens to many that begin to question what they've been taught their whole lives. The beginning of a process of unraveling the tight religious binds. A step program in which you're told is actually the stair-steps down to the pits of hell. I am still on my staircase, though I like to think of it as a slow-moving, heathens escalator. The escalator sometimes breaks down and goes slower than I'd like it. Even so, it's always moving forward, upwards, pulling away from all of the cross-bearing hands that held me down. And if you know how escalators work (I hope you do, anyway), you know that you're only on one with others that are going to up with you. The ones going down aren't in your way, as try as they might to grab you with them in passing. I hope that lame analogy helps you understand what I'm trying to say and also realize that I'm sometimes terrible with analogies.

I experienced discrimination and judgement from strangers, co-workers, friends and family (when confronting them on certain views) because of my secularism. Living in a very conservative area in the Bible Belt, non-believers aren't well-received. Even with that reality, I've learned of quite a few young people in my area rejecting what they've been taught. Many are rejecting church and organized religion. Many don't like Christians bashing their gay friends and the community. Many are simply recognizing the conceptual flaws of the omnipotent and questioning the idea of a God itself. A sign of light in an area largely ruled by dark-age mentalities. I believe that when religion is examined, put on trial and viewed through unbiased prisms, it is rejected or at the very least, found wanting. Even with that being the case, there's still so many that fight off the intellectually responsible urge to question absurdities and seek out solace rooted in logic. It's unfortunate since logic and reason are in short supply around here. I gave in to that urge and it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I only wish that everyone can experience what I have. While it is no small task, the bondage-busting breakthrough is far more rewarding than the false sense of security I received in the Pentecostal-penitentiary I was confined to.

Some may be reading this and thinking that I'm exaggerating or wondering how I could be so happy letting go of what they lean on so much. In regards to my personal experience, I'm not exaggerating at all. It really is an unbelievable freeing of me as a person. When you remove the holy water from your ears that drown out reason, unanswered questions multiply while at the same time things make a lot more sense. Simply shutting down and repeating "God did it!" isn't satisfying anymore. It's not easy and is little more than frightening. You begin to wonder how you ever believed what you did. How could you have ever rejected something so obvious as evolution, writing it off as implausible, yet accepting you came from dirt and the finished products rib? Sharing a common-ancestor with an ape isn't quite far-fetched, is it? It's not hard to understand that stories that claim the entire earth was flooded and the only ones that survived were a 900 year old man(and his family) who built an ark and collected all of the species of animals on the planet two-by-two doesn't come from the apex of human intelligence. These are things that you're suppose to accept without question, but how can you do that if yearn for the truth? That's why questioning is a sin, punishable by forever-after in hell. 

You also realize that your morals have little to do with your religion. Not surprisingly, the idea of not killing someone or taking their things comes somewhat naturally. You also realize that book written by primitive men several millenniums ago isn't the best place to draw guidance from. After all, how much morality can  be derived from a book that tells you how to treat your slaves (Leviticus 25:44-46, Exodus 21:2-6) or requires rapists to marry their victims as punishment (Deuteronomy 22:28-29)? Some of the many things you won't hear during your average sermon on Sunday morning. It is often ignored that there really isn't only ten commandments, they're actually part of 613 mosaic laws that every Christian likely breaks everyday without ever knowing it.What "morality" that can be applied to modern day society can be chalked up to common sense. It can also be found in religions and societies far predating Christianity. For example, the Golden Rule (Do unto others...) can be found in ancient Babylon, China, Greece, Egypt etc. centuries before.Also long before it can be found in Buddhism, Hinduism and a list of other religions predating Christianity. That leads me to the one question that always stumps every religious person I have asked is "What about religions that came before Christianity?". Christianity is around 2,000 years old and anywhere between 3,300-3,800 years old if we count Judaism and the Old Testament. In terms of religions, it's an infant. Homo-sapiens are about 200,000 years old and the oldest religion in its simplest form is probably around 100,000 years old. There were thousands of religions long before Christianity, most of which many have never heard of, but even Buddhism and Hinduism long predates it. My question always was how could a religion so young be the right/true one if I was a believer? It's like saying a small child is the father of a middle-aged man. It's simply not possible. If it was, then why did God wait so long to reveal it to the world? We can only assume that all those before were sent to hell since they weren't Christians. If that's the case, how fair is that to all of those that lived during that time? For the time being I'm going to ignore the fact that the concept of hell is virtually non-existent in the Old Testament. As troubling as I found this fun-fact, the more digging around I did, the more the foundation of what I believed and had been taught crumbled. When I began to study other religions, it became pretty obvious that Christianity and Jesus wasn't the O.G.(original God) of deities. There's multitude of stories of found in the bible, from the flood to the garden of Eden, to the glaringly similar stories of Gods that were claimed to be born of a virgin, was the son of God, had 12 disciples, was crucified and resurrected etc. and they all predated the story of Jesus. A simple search of figures like Horus, Mithras, Krishna, Buddha, Attis and many others all but proves that the suspected sacred scripture is borrowed and combined with religions that came before it as they did as well. When a simple Google search can show how fragile the structure and tenets upon which your religion stands, it becomes obvious why questioning is so frowned upon. The fear of questioning is something I personally struggled with. When I found a particular fact that refuted something so dear to me, I literally got that sinking feeling in my hear. At first I attributed it to the feeling that I was doing something wrong, that by simply taking in this new knowledge, I'd go to hell. Now I believe that it was fear coupled with a broken heart of believing the falsehoods of a fable veiled as something more. The lies of the Lord. The pillars of the basis of my faith were being chipped away deep inside me and I didn't want to acknowledge it. It was a tough pill to swallow, but I found I was strong enough to endure it and so glad I did. I went all-in, still afraid because hell still existed in my world that was now upside down. Having my deeply-held beliefs being taken from me by a just thief called reason was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

I also learned of the strength inside myself and others around me, a discovery that has left me in awe. When you remove the notion that all good things are a product of an alleged all-mighty and all of the ills of the world are the result of prodding pitchforked man with a high tolerance for heat, you see the world in a completely different way. When you remove the idea of God, you see how beautiful nature is all on it own. When you remove the idea of God, you see the incredible things us humans have done in regards to science in particular, all on our own. It's all around us. When the idea of God is rejected, you also see a lot frightening and negative things as well. You learn the sources of negative things can't be chalked up a man named Lucifer out to get you. You understand that sometimes bad things sometimes happen because of choices you or others made. One of the major issues I have with religion is that it claims to encourage responsibility, but does the exact opposite. With religion, things seem to never be in your control. When you make a mistake it's said that it's the Devil's work or an evil force creeping into your soul. How can a person truly accept responsibility for their actions when that is their mentality? It stifles growth as a human being, eliminating potential lesson-learning moments we all need in our slow stride to become a better person. It also requires you to attribute the good things you do to some mysterious high-power that can be the only source of good. How can a person realize the inner-strength, when they're always immediately handing off the accolades and shouting their well-deserved praises to this attention craving, insecure being lingering in the heavens? This is especially bad when these ideas are instilled on you as a child, a time where developing into your own and understanding responsibility is extremely important. There's evidence that we're born with strength, kindness, compassion and a plethora of other qualities. We're also born without religion or a God, that's taught to us later on. Where you're born and who your parents worship is the biggest influence on what religion you choose to go with. Most don't ever question it and are fooling themselves if they claim they came to their conclusion independently(though not always the case). We also have one thing in common at birth, we all come into this world as atheists. We don't believe in any higher-being until it's taught/instilled/indoctrinated in us. Our secularism is universal, it's only taken away and replaced later on. While that's the reality, religious people are still atheists when it comes to the thousands of religions/Gods in the world. They dismiss them without hesitation and without examination. Why is it that atheists are castigated and demonized when we only reject one more God than most believers? We've simply examined your religion and found it as implausible and untrue as you have perhaps have with Islam or Hinduism. The whole "get em' while they're young" approach religion takes is extremely unfair. Children are too malleable and vulnerable to have something so complex as religion put on their plate, a plate that's full enough with understanding the world as it is. I find it deplorable to tell someone, especially a young person, that they're not good enough and are damned to hell if they don't do what men said was right and wrong thousands of years ago. It's equally as bad to turn them against groups of people they have never met(or sometimes friends with) because supposedly their God told someone, who told someone, who in return told someone else and they wrote it down and are bad people and will burn in hell...or at least that's what the handed down word says(no one who wrote the bible ever met Jesus according to the dates we know) that was translated through many languages, then cherry-picked and edited by the Catholic Church.

 So, please forgive me for believing that we're just as good without God no matter what anyone says.

 In short, religion simply hinders growth that little can replace and drains us of desperately needed confidence during a time when confidence is the most valued commodity. With all of this, on top of being blindfolded of the god-less beauty around us, religion removes us from the narrow and hard-to-find path of happiness. Which is why it's better to remove it. Religion is a perpetrator of  many crimes. Guilty of theft of person-hood, robbery of the recognition of human resiliency, and hijacking of the imagination with other charges pending. 


I could go on and on about this and I will with each blog post, but I'll end the rambling here. I wanted to go into more detail and continue some of what I was talking about above, but didn't want to make this a "too long, didn't read" casualty.  Everything from my personal experiences that I hope will help others in their quest to the age of reason, my views on parts of the bible and views of others, to humorous rants that I used to frequently do in my blogs.I'll absolutely continue and expand on my thoughts above too. I also will cover political issues as well, being that it's my career field and passion. Please don't hesitate to pass this on, to question or reach out to me if you need to talk. Please leave comments and feedback, I'd love to hear from you. I'll be back soon with more thoughts and I hope you come back too.


Secularly yours,
The Heretic